Cavall Chaos
by Sirynta
Summary: Kel and Wyl get together, through an unusual course of events. I hate summaries, the story is so much better than what I could fit into this teensy little space. Don't let the chapters scare you! Come read it! (KW)
1. Fort Mastiff

**Cavall Chaos**

Rating: PG , same as the books.  
Summary: Cavall is to host a Midsummer Tournament, and all goes well until a mage invites Fairies into the Cavall woods.  
Timeline: Two years after Lady Knight. Spoilers for all four books.  
Don't Get Mad: This is a direct challenge to my ability as a writer. An author who wrote horrific Kel/Wyldon fic asked for a review. I told her that if she was to have Kel and Wyldon sleep together she would need to do two things: explain why they're in love and get rid of Wyldon's wife. She responded with a five-page flame that was 70 swear words and 30 gibberish. She concluded her rousing inspirational with the sentence: "you can't do any better." Well, SissyLouWho, I can, and here it is.  
Pairing: Kel/Wyldon  
Disclaimer: I do not own Jon and Thayet of Conte, nor any element of their universe - Tamora Pierce and her publishing company do. I'm borrowing their world for fun, not profit. Obviously I don't own the fairies, either.

**Part One**  
**March 20, 462 H. E.  
Fort Mastiff**

Two years ago, Keladry of Mindelan would have been alarmed at being summoned to Fort Mastiff without warning. Two years ago, while the Scanrans were ravaging the northern border, a summons to Fort Mastiff meant anything from a fallen fort to a flock of killing devices on the way. Now, however, the Scanran War was over and Maggur Rathhausak was in danger of losing his throne - something about the lack of a quick victory over Tortall, and the fact he'd used his hostages to fuel killing devices. Now, Kel was merely concerned at the summons. Nevertheless, war or not, Kel did not ride alone. Her birds, Jump, Sir Nealan of Queenscove, Tobe, and a squad of civilian fighters rode with the lady knight.

"You know, Kel, I'm glad the Stump called you to Fort Mastiff," Neal said sarcastically, "I mean, it's not like you have anything to do since the refugees are heading back to their lands. Why, you've had nothing to do but twiddle your thumbs - when you're not organizing, training fighters, helping build wagons, baby-sitting, making sure everyone has what they'll need, patrolling, and stopping the occasional raid."

"You know milady doesn't like it when you call him "Stump,"" Tobe cautioned. "I have bread in my pack, and I'll let her beat you with it."

Kel flashed an approving smile to Tobe. "Neal," she said patiently, "they're leaving in two days. Most of the work is done already, and the fort can take care of itself for a few days. I think he's going to give me my new assignment, after Fort New Hope becomes the town of New Hope." With the war over, there was no reason to maintain the fort, but some of the refugees had decided to stay in the Greenwoods valley.

"I'm not even sure that's a good idea," Neal said, "the more forts the better. Still, if he just wanted to give out reassignments, he would have called me, too. Or just sent them by courier."

"Unless he assumed I'd bring you along, which I have. And he prefers to give assignments in person, in case we have questions," she replied. Neal snorted. Kel shook her head. She knew Neal was grumpy because Yuki, his wife of two years, was in Corus waiting on Princess Shinkokami. _Newlyweds,_ Kel thought, _they have their whole lives together and being apart for mere months is torture._ "Think of it this way, Neal, you'll probably get to see Yuki at the Tournament this year. I wonder where it's being held," Kel said, hoping to distract him from his favorite topic - why their former training master was undesirable as a commander or a human being.

"I resent the implication that my dislike for the Stump is solely caused by not being with my wife," Her best friend said indignantly. "I think the tournament will be in Corus."

"You're only saying that because you want to see Yuki," Kel teased. The group crested the last hill, and paused to admire the view. Fort Mastiff was a picture of orderly industry, much like the man who commanded it, Lord Wyldon of Cavall. They trotted down the hill and through the gates.

"Kel! Neal!" A merry voice shouted, accompanied by the clatter of feet on stairs. Owen bounded up to the group, waving frantically. "Are you hungry?" He asked, taking the horses' reins and passing them on to a nearby foot soldier. Tobe took Peachblossom. Owen had passed his Ordeal two years before, only to be repositioned under Wyldon's command. Earning his shield clearly hadn't dampened Owen's gregarious spirit.

"No," Kel said, "we ate on the road. Is Lord Wyldon ready to see us?"

"He said he'd see you when you were ready, he assumed you'd want to eat, but he'll see you now. Come on," Owen beckoned, nearly hopping up and down in his excitement. Kel concluded that, for Owen to be this excited, whatever news Wyldon had was good. Wyldon's subordinate didn't get any less effervescent when they reached his commander's office. He knocked once and opened the heavy wooden door.

"Kel and Neal are here," Owen said quickly, then moved out of the way.

"Thank you, Jesslaw. Now stop hopping like a rabbit in Spring," Wyldon told the knight, who shut the door without any signs of chagrin. "Mindelan. Queenscove, I don't recall sending for you," Wyldon commented with his usual calm demeanor.

"That's age sneaking up on you," Neal said impudently. Kel jabbed him in the ribs. "Sir," Neal added. Wyldon frowned.

"Neal, that's your cue to leave," Kel muttered softly out the side of her mouth.

"Only to eavesdrop with Jesslaw," Wyldon finished in his clipped baritone. Kel flushed. She'd forgotten how keen the former training master's hearing was. "You might as well stay, you'll hear about it later in any case." Wyldon gestured to the two seats before his desk.

"See, I told you he'd assume you'd bring me," Neal said, taking a seat. Kel scowled at him, then focused her attention on her commander.

"Will the refugees be ready to return to their lands on schedule?" Wyldon asked. Kel nodded.

"Yes, sir. Some of them have decided to stay at New Hope. The rest are itching to get back in time to plant," Kel reported. She didn't mention those who had complained about being sent back mid-planting season.

"They should be able to catch up," Wyldon responded to her unspoken thought. The passes had been icy enough to preclude travel up until a few weeks ago. "Afterwards, have you given any thought to your next station?" Kel resisted the urge to shoot a triumphant glance at Neal.

"With getting Steaben's group - I mean, the refugees, ready to go I haven't had much time, sir," Kel admitted. "I'd assumed I'd keep defending New Hope."

"Everyone else has thought for you. I've had requests for you from as far south as the Carthaki Embassy, as well as Corus, the Tusaine border, and the western coast. The Yamani, of course, wouldn't mind having the "Protector of the Small" stationed at the Tortallan Embassy there, either. Any particular preference?" Kel didn't say anything, shocked that so many places wanted her skills and dismayed that Lord Wyldon had adopted that ridiculous nickname people had given her.

"While you're thinking it over, I'd like you to consider doing something for me. It isn't an order." Wyldon held up a folded piece of parchment. "His Majesty has decided that Cavall is to host the Midsummer Tournament this year, to celebrate the end of the war and two good harvests. I have to be at Cavall early to prepare, and I would like you to assist me."

"You want my help because of my supply skills," Kel guessed wryly. _I should have sabotaged myself. At this rate I'll never get anything but stationary assignments._ Kel didn't regret Haven or New Hope, but she had hoped for a more mobile assignment this time. Wyldon nodded.

"Keep in mind hosts cannot compete in the tournament," he added. Kel thought about it. There really wasn't much for her to do at New Hope, and there were no guarantees she'd make it to the tournament otherwise. Also, there was the challenge of putting a royal event together to consider, and Lord Wyldon had said helping him wasn't an official posting. _You'll get to see Cavall, the Stump's home,_ Kel thought, her curiosity peaked.

"Yes, I'll do it. When do we leave?" Kel decided.

"We'll travel with the returnees for a few days, then branch southwest on our own. We should arrive at Cavall by May first. That gives us a month and a half to organize everything. Starting day is June 17th. We will need to travel quickly, so pack only the necessities." Wyldon said, standing. Kel and Neal stood as well.

"I guess I'll see you in two months," Neal said.

"You'll be in command of New Hope while Mindelan is away, Queenscove. You need the experience."

"WHAT?" Neal shouted, gaping in dismay. "But, but, the tournament, Yuki-" Neal protested. Wyldon raised his eyebrows. Neal growled, but said nothing more.

"Don't destroy the town while she's gone. Pick up what last-minute supplies you need from the quartermaster," Wyldon ordered. "Dismissed." Neal scowled and walked out with Kel. Owen was waiting.

"Did you hear? Cavall's going to host the tournament! My lord won't admit it, but he's excited," Owen said cheerfully as they headed toward the quartermaster's. "I might get to go, I hope I get to go, I'd hate it if he left me here, do you think he'll take me, Kel?"

"I wouldn't bet on it," Neal snarled, "the Stump's getting too much sadistic pleasure from making people stay home so they can't see their wife for the first time in a year and a half or see the Midsummer Tournament." Neal glared at Kel. "I don't see why you get all the fun."

"Neal, I'll be running errands and making things run the whole time," Kel said comfortingly, "I won't get to see much more than rows of tents and papers."

"But you'll get to be there, you'll get to see Yuki," Neal said stubbornly.

"Not if I'm as busy as I think I'm going to be. I won't see more than a glimpse of anyone I know. And the tournament is only five days long, the rest of the time it'll just be Lord Wyldon and me," Kel pointed out, trying to cheer Neal up.

"You're right," Neal said, brightening, "it will be just you, the Stump, and paperwork. You're going to be just as miserable as I will."

"And what about me?" Tobe demanded, his jaw set stubbornly. "You're not heading clear across Tortall without me, Lady." Kel gave Tobe a hard look. She'd hoped that fact would escape Neal's notice.

"He's right. You'll have him, an ally. You won't be miserable at all, and I," Neal announced loftily, "won't speak to you again." Kel looked at Tobe.

"Oops," the boy said.

After their second day in incessant rain, Kel wondered if Neal hadn't been right the first time. The day Kel, Tobe and Wyldon had parted ways with the New Hope returnees had been clear and sunny. Overnight, though, a cloud bank had moved in. When the sky wasn't pouring, it was drizzling. The forest floor was muddy in most places and damp everywhere else. The intermittent gusts didn't help. The cold wind bit through even the warmest layers of clothing or hair - even the horses were miserable.

"No biting," Tobe warned Peachblossom as he edged Hoshi closer. "Lady, is your lord all right? He hasn't said but eight words in two days."

"The rain makes his scars hurt, and he's not one for casual conversation," Kel whispered in explanation. Tobe glanced at the gray-cloaked figure hunched against the rain.

"Well, if I were too stupid to use a healer, I'd be miserable, too," the boy said.

"Tobe, hush," Kel said reprovingly.

"It's true. Healers everywhere, he's got the coin for it, and he goes and heals on his own. It's stupid."

"Enduring pain makes a knight stronger," Wyldon growled. "It takes away pain's power over you. Fighters who go to a healer for every little hurt are weakened."

"That's like saying being sick makes you healthier," Tobe scoffed in a low voice to Kel. Tobe was almost certain speaking his mind to Wyldon would get him sent back to New Hope, but he also knew Kel appreciated his viewpoint.

"It does. It builds up your immune system," Kel said, remembering Neal's speech on the usefulness of the common cold.

"Don't tell me you buy that nonsense," Tobe said incredulously, forgetting to modulate his tone.

"Not to that extent, no, but he has a point. On the Islands, trainees sit in pouring rain for days without moving. They claim not to even notice pain, they've gotten so used to it." Tobe stared at her, then shivered.

"I'm staying right here in Tortall, Lady. Them Yamanis aren't human."

"Those Yamanis," Kel said. "They are human, just different. Different is good. Think how boring it would be if everyone were the same." Tobe thought it over, nodded, and moved back behind Kel.

After a while, Kel was startled by an acorn whizzing past her ear. The small missile struck Wyldon at the nape of his neck. The former training master clapped his neck in surprise, then turned to glare at Kel. Kel bowed her head in chagrin, then looked at Tobe in time to see him flick another acorn.

"Tobe…" Kel said sternly, giving him a disapproving look.

"Sorry," Tobe said in his own defense as his projectile struck Wyldon in the shoulder, "I was aiming for Peachblossom. He likes to see if he can catch them with his teeth. I think it's practice." Kel's frown deepened to a full-out glare. Tobe put the acorns in his pocket. "Sorry, Peachblossom. Mother says we can't play anymore," Tobe said to the horse. Peachblossom snorted in reply. His head snaked out like lightning and the gelding's teeth clicked an inch from Wyldon's hastily-moved thigh.

"Stop that," Wyldon said irritably. Kel reined her horse in, scolding him curtly.

"Let's play a game instead," Kel said, correctly interpreting Tobe's boredom.

"I was playing a game," Tobe responded irrepressibly.

"Chucking seeds at my commander's head is not a game. How about "I Spy?""

"I wasn't throwing them at his lordship, I was throwing them to Peachblossom," Tobe persisted. "What's "I Spy?""

"One person describes something they see and the other person tries to guess what it is. The fewer clues it takes you to guess, the better you are. After one person guesses correctly, it's his turn to give the clues. I'll start," Kel explained. "I spy with my little eye something that is gray."

"Fog?" Tobe guessed.

"No. I spy with my little eye something that is solid." Tobe thought about Kel's words for a moment, then shrugged in defeat. "I spy with my little eye something that is warm," Kel continued.

"My cloak?" Tobe asked finally. Kel nodded, smiling. Tobe cheered, then quieted at a scowl from Wyldon. "I spy with my little eye something that is brown," Tobe said.

"Mud," Kel guessed.

"That's not it. I spy with my little eye something that is white, too."

"Soapy mud?"

"I spy with my little eye something that has leather on it," Tobe said, deciding he was being too obscure.

"Hoshi," Kel said after a few moments. Tobe grinned.

"I spy with my little eye something that is green," Kel began. They played the game for almost two hours before moving on to Concentration, a game played by adding a few notes to the end of a whistled tune until a player forgot part or neither could remember the original tune. Wyldon hunched deeper in his saddle. Those had been his eldest son's favorite games when he was young. Wyldon didn't appreciate the reminder of how long it had been since even his youngest had been young enough to play such games, or how few of those games he'd had the chance to play with his children. He scanned the woods and roads constantly, on the lookout for anything amiss. There was no such distraction.

The trio stopped at noon to rest the horses, water them, and eat lunch. Kel took the opportunity to teach Tobe how to skip rocks on a nearby stream. Wyldon turned his back to them and watched the woods. The rain had changed to a fine mist, but the temperature hadn't risen as all. _I should have made her leave the boy behind,_ Wyldon thought sourly, rubbing his aching arm absently. _At least then I would have had peace and quiet._ He glanced at Kel. _Assuming Mindelan doesn't act like Queenscove when she's bored, that is. It's a possibility._ Wyldon stood suddenly, his lunch finished.

"Let's go," he said curtly. Kel and Tobe immediately put their rocks down, retrieved their horses, and mounted up. They continued down the soggy road. Wyldon acted as lookout while Kel and Tobe kept each other entertained and distracted from the inclement weather. Kel also watched the surrounding woods. There hadn't been any dangerous Scanran activity lately, but both knights had spent too long on the border to be anything but paranoid.

"Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean everyone isn't out to get you," Wyldon murmured softly, his lips twitching in amusement.

"What was that, my lord?" Kel asked. Wyldon shook his head, gesturing for her to pay him no heed. Kel's brows dipped in confusion. With a shrug, she and Tobe returned to their current game of trading riddles. Every few moments, Kel glanced at her commander. He'd been far quieter than usual, and her brave words to Tobe aside, she was concerned. She knew it wasn't just the damp, but she didn't know any way of finding out what was wrong. _Maybe he's just worried about the Tournament. He is the one who'll look stupid if it doesn't go well, after all. That must be it - he's just planning ahead,_ Kel decided.

"Where do you love to go but hate to be," Tobe asked. Kel focused her attention on his riddle. "Where you like to leave but always return?" Kel frowned. That didn't sound like anything she knew. She wanted to say page training, but you never went back there. The Black God's court was the same way.

"Home," Wyldon said. Tobe frowned, both at the interruption and the bizarre answer.

"No, the healer's," Tobe corrected slowly. "You love to go there when you're in pain, but you hate being there while you're healing because it hurts. You always feel good leaving, but you always go back again for something else. Well, most people go back."

"Very clever, Tobe. Would you like a turn, my lord?" Kel asked. She didn't think Wyldon would accept, but it would have been rude not to offer.

"Thank you for the courtesy, but no," Wyldon said. After a few moments, Tobe posed another riddle.

At twilight the group stopped at a clearing ringed in trees. Numerous ash marks in the grass testified to the clearing's suitability as a campsite. Despite the high humidity, Kel and Tobe managed to find enough dry wood for a cook fire. Wyldon made a delicious stew that was complimented with nuts Tobe filched from a squirrel's cache.

Moments after Kel and Tobe had turned in for the night, just as Wyldon started his watch, sheets of icy rain began pouring from the sky. The water froze as soon as it hit the ground, covering everything in a thin coat of invisible ice. Wyldon scowled murderously at the sky from beneath his tree.

"That," he said dourly to the god of weather, "is not funny."

Kel stretched when she woke the next morning, then huddled back in her bedroll against the frigid temperature. _What a horrible day to be on the road,_ Kel thought, forcing herself to crawl out of bed. She pulled on her boots quickly, glad she hadn't changed into a nightshirt last night. Tobe roused and complained drowsily about the weather. Kel untied the flap to her tent, then climbed outside. She almost fell, unprepared for the slick ground.

"Go back to sleep. There's no way the horses can ride on this," Wyldon said, carefully picking himself up off the ground. "We'll have to wait until this melts before we can travel."

"Are the horses all right?" Kel asked. Wyldon nodded, finding a precarious balance.

"Their tree provided shelter," he said, carefully making his way to his own tent. Only Kel's Yamani training kept her from laughing as she watched Wyldon mince across the camp. "Is something amusing, Mindelan?" Wyldon growled, doing an odd two-step in front of his tent.

"No, sir. Why didn't you wake me for my watch?"

"No need. No one could have done anything in that rain. Even getting to my tent was an exercise in courting frostbite and collapse, let alone pillaging and burning." Kel's mouth twitched, then she too began the graceless dance of walking on ice. Wyldon cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing. Kel used the latrine and returned to her tent. She fell twice. Each time, she was glad no one else saw - she doubted Lord Wyldon would let her falls escape without comment.

Around ten o'clock Wyldon judged it safe to proceed. They took down camp quickly and started traveling again. The rain had cleared out the drizzle, but it was still damp and foggy. Kel and Tobe soon began conversing between themselves, debating which type of horse was best for riding on muddy roads. Kel favored the stronger greathorses because they were strong enough to pull themselves or each other out of the mire, whereas Tobe believed lighter horses wouldn't get entrenched in the first place. Wyldon refrained from interrupting; he couldn't say anything that wouldn't stop the conversation or be redundant, nor was he crass enough to interrupt.

Wyldon had planned the Tournament as much as he could over the previous several days. He had also exhausted any other mental work he needed to do. Out of sheer boredom, he began to do mental math as he rode. The equations became more and more complex until the numbers finally slipped out of his control and jumbled into a chaotic mess. Once that happened, he started over. By mid-afternoon, even the math was dull. He listened for a moment to Kel and Tobe. They were exchanging trivia questions. Another game. _Lovely,_ Wyldon thought, massaging his sore arm. Normally, he would have given Kel the lead and tried to read a book. However, he didn't completely trust Sable, a sub-standard horse sent to Wyldon in hopes he could smarten the animal up, not to run him into a tree. _There are worse things than boredom, Cavall,_ he reminded himself sternly.

By the time twilight came, Wyldon was looking forward to cooking just because it was something to do. He gently pulled Sable to a stop near a likely-looking spot. He opened his mouth to tell Kel and Tobe this was where they'd stop for the night, only to find Kel had already dismounted. Wyldon closed his mouth and slid off his mount, stretching stiff legs. Kel and Tobe once again found wood for a fire. After a dinner of stew and the remaining nuts, he practiced with his sword against an invisible opponent while Kel and Tobe practiced against each other. Wyldon took first watch again, circling the camp to keep feeling in his toes. An hour before midnight, he woke Mindelan for her turn as sentry.

When dawn came, they ate a cold breakfast and went on their way. This routine continued for three days, until they came upon a village with an inn.

"An inn with a bathhouse, thank the Goddess," Kel commented in relief. She was dirty and smelly, and she didn't like it.

"Peachblossom thinks so, too. He says you're getting pungent," Tobe teased. Peachblossom shook his mane in agreement. Wyldon was also happy, but for a different reason. For the first time in a long while, he was looking forward to having someone to talk with. Kel, Tobe and Wyldon rode to the inn, saw that the horses were stabled and that Peachblossom behaved, then went into the main hall. Wyldon walked up to the innkeeper.

"Two rooms, three baths, three suppers, please," Wyldon ordered politely. Tobe smirked, correctly assuming Lord Wyldon knew better than to separate Tobe from Kel. After a brief conversation, Wyldon gave the innkeeper a copper noble. He gestured for Kel to follow. She went up to the desk.

"How much do I owe you?" Kel asked. The man frowned.

"Are you with him?" he asked, pointing to Wyldon. Kel nodded. "He already paid for all of you." Kel nodded a thank-you to the man, picked up her saddlebags and hurried after Wyldon.

"My lord, how much do I owe you?" Kel asked, catching up to him. Wyldon handed her a key.

"Nothing. That's your room."

"I have my own money, you don't need to pay. How much do I owe you for Tobe and me?" Kel persisted. Wyldon repeated his previous answer. He stopped at his door, unlocked it, and went inside. Wyldon tossed his bags on the floor and reached inside them for his clean set of clothes. Kel stood at the door, not bold enough to just charge into her commander's room. "I realize I don't make as much money as you do, either in purses or in family wealth, but I have enough to pay for my own room." Kel held out five copper bits, two-thirds of a copper noble.

"And I am not so miserly I demand repayment," Wyldon said, folding his clothes into a neat bundle.

"You better take it," Tobe said on his mistress's behalf, "or she'll feel like a trollop." Kel stared incredulously at Tobe. Wyldon walked to the door and stepped outside, closing the door behind him. He bent over to look Tobe in the eyes.

"I may have been born in the dark, but it was not last night," Wyldon said, then walked away without taking the money.

"Come on, Tobe. We've lost the battle, not the war," Kel said, unlocking her own door. "Get your clothes and go take a bath. Don't forget to sneak the coins into his purse." Kel handed Tobe the bits, who secreted them in his pocket with a sly smile.

Kel gathered her clothes and went to the woman's bathhouse. There was a strong smell of sulfur in the air, but after several minutes in the warm spring water Kel didn't notice it. She scrubbed from crown to foot and back again, leaving no spot unwashed. Afterward she just sat in the water, enjoying the warm, clean feeling. _If I were the lady I was supposed to be, I wouldn't have to traipse down long, cold roads in icy rain. I could just sit in my solar and read with hot baths every night. I was crazy, absolutely crazy to be a knight,_ Kel thought with dry humor. She knew she would have been miserable in so much comfort while so many others were suffering. _Embroidery is boring, anyway,_ Kel thought, smiling slightly to herself. Kel washed her clothes in the water. Her cleaning complete, Kel toweled herself off and dressed. She wore a burgundy wool skirt and a loose white shirt instead of her usual breeches partly as a change of pace, partly to make sure people knew she was a girl.

Kel left the bathhouse and hung her clothes on a convenient line in her room with a towel under them to catch the drips. She then went into the main hall. Shortly after she sat down at an empty table, a pretty waitress took her order. Dinner for the night was a slab of meat, fried vegetables, bread and cheese. Kel was half-way through her vegetables when Wyldon and Tobe joined her.

"Mindelan," Wyldon said in greeting as he sat down across from her. Tobe sat next to Kel, giving Wyldon a distrustful look. Tobe wanted to know why "the Stump" was being so nice to Kel all of the sudden, but he didn't want Wyldon to order Kel to send him back for asking, either. The pretty waitress returned to take the newcomers' orders.

"What she's having, please," Tobe said at his most adorable. The woman grinned at him, then turned to Wyldon.

"What can I get you, soldier?" the woman said with a wink. Wyldon glanced at the Cavall badge on his shirt, then up at the woman. His badge clearly indicated he was a knight and a noble, not a common soldier. Kel resisted the urge to shake her head at the oblivious woman.

"The same. Please see the meat is well-cooked," Wyldon said politely.

"Ale or wine?" The wench purred, sidling closer.

"Cider," Wyldon said.

"We don't have that," The woman moved so close her hip brushed Wyldon's arm.

"Water, then," Wyldon said. The woman smiled and winked again, then sashayed toward the kitchen. Neither Kel nor Wyldon said anything. The serving wench came with Wyldon and Tobe's food.

"Anything else I can get you?" The woman breathed into Wyldon's ear when she leaned over setting Wyldon's plate down. Kel's eyes widened. The wench had pulled her bodice low enough her bust was almost completely exposed. Tobe pretended to be entranced by his plate.

"No, thank you," Wyldon said shortly, ripping his slice of bread in half.

"Not even a little… feminine company?" The wench asked, pouting. She teased at the short hair at the nape of Wyldon's neck and leaned to give him a full view of her ample cleavage. Wyldon looked down at his lap and moved away from her touch. The ambient temperature at the table seemed to drop several degrees.

"I've got enough feminine company, thank you," he said curtly, gesturing to Kel. The wench straightened and looked at Kel contemptuously.

"I may not be a university magician, but I'm not stupid. If that's a girl, I'm a cat."

"Start lapping, Kitty," Tobe said angrily, spilling a little of his milk on the table. "She's more of a girl than you are."

"Tobe, be polite," Kel said, scowling at the waitress in dislike and disapproval. The woman paused, then continued undaunted.

"A boyish girl like that can't be that good of a tumble," the wench purred bluntly, sitting in Wyldon's lap. Wyldon scowled. "Such a scowl! I bet I can make you smile," she purred, running a hand down Wyldon's chest. Wyldon set down his fork and grabbed the woman by the waist.

"If you want to make me smile, leave me alone," Wyldon said curtly and forcibly removed her from his lap. He then scooted in so his legs were under the table. The woman pouted angrily and stalked off.

"Well, you tried to be polite," Kel said softly, loading some bread with vegetables and taking a bite. Wyldon grunted.

"That's why I didn't want you to be a page. All flirtation and no grasp of subtlety."

"Women like that give the rest of us a bad name," Kel agreed.

"Like that and the women who go into hysterics or moral superiority at the drop of a hat," Tobe said with humor. "And don't forget the ones who think it's funny for men to fight over them." The corners of Wyldon's mouth twitched.

"Or women who feel the need to turn tradition on its ear whenever they feel like it and have can't seem to walk down a hallway without getting into fights with the flagstones," Wyldon said. "Those are the ones you have to really watch out for." Kel stared at him while Tobe choked on his vegetables, spitting them out in his hurry to get his mouth free.

"You said she was just as good as men-" Tobe began hotly, worries about an order to return to New Hope forgotten. Kel clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Did you just make a joke?" Kel asked in astonishment.

"I'm not a funny man," Wyldon said, not meeting her eyes. He began eating his meal. _I've been practically ignoring him the entire trip,_ Kel realized. _He's… lonely. He was trying to break the ice, and I missed it._ She released Tobe's mouth and pointed to his food. She almost didn't believe what her people-sense told her. _He's the Stump - all stone, no water. He can't get lonely, he certainly wouldn't want to chat with his subordinates._ Kel looked at Wyldon through her lashes. He was watching a group of people laughing near the fireplace, his face a mask of stone. _That's just stupid. Lord Wyldon is human; no human I know would willingly spend almost a week in near-total silence, nor look forward to more of the same all the way to Cavall._

"I'm sorry," Kel said, looking up. Wyldon's head jerked her direction.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'm sorry. I've been ignoring you all week, that was rude," Kel explained. Tobe looked at Kel like she'd suddenly sprouted a second head. He didn't like the turn of the conversation at all.

"You didn't have anything to say," Wyldon said with a shrug.

"But I never stopped to see if you had anything to say to me," Kel said. She winced at how cold that sounded. "I mean, it's not that I didn't have anything to say to you, I just didn't think you wanted to hear it." Even worse. "That didn't come out like I meant it."

"Lady, you're digging yourself in a hole," Tobe advised. "Maybe you'd better be quiet and eat your meat." Wyldon raised his eyebrows expectantly. Kel took a deep breath. Why was it whenever she tried to explain her feelings to Wyldon it always came out wrong? From her first attempt at explaining why her desires were subordinate to her commander's when she was a probationary page, to clarifying Joren's possible influence on those who challenged her as a squire, to describing why she hadn't wanted the assignment of Haven as a new knight - six times out of ten, Kel said something wrong somewhere. _A calm lake on a windless day; this is what I shall be,_ Kel repeated to herself in Yamani. _Reflect as if you have all of time, even when time is short._

"You're my commander," Kel said slowly. "There's always a barrier of sorts between a commander and his troops. I assumed as my commander you wouldn't want to talk with me about anything not directly related to our duties."

"Logical," Wyldon said. His mouth moved to form another word, but whatever he was going to say was lost when a tall, brawny man accompanied by three other tall, brawny men walked up to the table and demanded Wyldon's attention.

"I hear you were rude to Shanna," the leader said. Wyldon gave them a blank look. "Shanna. The woman who so graciously offered you company for the night."

"I'm married. It wouldn't be appropriate," Wyldon said. Wyldon didn't want a brawl. When knights fought commoners, commoners ended up dead or nearly so. Not all strikes could be perfectly gauged not to kill, and not all battle-wired reflexes could be overridden.

"Aww, he's married," the leader said sarcastically, "leagues from home and he's still faithful to his wife. Isn't that sweet? Every man cheats on his wife at least once, even chivalrous district commanders." So much for pulling rank, Kel thought, watching her lord.

"Not with his wife sitting right across the table," Tobe said suddenly. Both Kel and Wyldon stared at Tobe incredulously. The leader scrutinized Kel's badge-less white shirt, Raven Armory belt-knife and woolen skirt.

"You're lying, runt. If he's her husband, why do they have separate rooms?" the leader asked belligerently.

"He snores," Kel said simply, looking back to the men.

"Aww, leave him alone, Marc," a tall, weathered man at the bar drawled. "You can't expect him to use a whore with his woman and son sitting at the table, even if a quarter of her payment goes to you." A murmur of agreement spread through the room. Marc and his goons had no choice but to back off.

"So it's all right to intimidate someone into, into, picking up a woman, but only if his wife's not with him?" Kel snorted indignantly. Wyldon nodded disgustedly, and returned to his food as if nothing had happened.

"It doesn't make sense, and it's not right. There's nothing we can do about it. Pick your battles when you have a chance of winning," Wyldon said. Kel wanted to argue the point, but didn't. Her lord was right - she couldn't even hope to gain ground here. "And I do not snore," Wyldon said stiffly.

"Yes, you do," Kel responded.

"No, I do not," Wyldon said firmly, raising his eyebrows. Kel started to back down from the familiar look of censure, then stopped herself. She wasn't certain the offer of companionship made via the earlier joke was closed. There was only one way to find out. Kel took a deep breath.

"Sir, with all due respect, either you snore or every tree around us last night was struck by lightning. Repeatedly," Kel said. She waited tensely as Wyldon regarded her unblinkingly.

"Care to place a wager on that?" Wyldon said slowly.

"Loser cleans winner's horses and tack for a week, including hooves," Kel said promptly.

"That's no incentive for me. I have stable workers," Wyldon said. Kel thought for a moment, chewing on her lip.

"Loser owes winner a box of Carthaki chocolate?"

"You are on," Wyldon said. "Would you be so kind as to ask the horses?" he asked Tobe.

"I don't have to," Tobe said. "Hoshi and Peachblossom have been complaining about Sable's snoring the entire trip. It was Sable you heard, Lady." Kel flushed. Though she almost didn't want to see, she glanced at Wyldon. One corner of his mouth was lifted in a definite smirk. It wasn't a smile, but it wasn't his usual expressionless mask.

After dinner Kel talked with Tobe and the locals while Wyldon went over to join the people talking at the fireplace. He and Kel didn't speak to each other the rest of the night. They weren't what they had been at the night's beginning, and both of them refused to be too hasty about further change.

That night, Kel found a small, leather purse with a note attached on her pillow. Kel picked up the slip of paper, curious. The message was written in a neat, firm hand:

**Very funny.**

Puzzled, Kel opened the pouch. Inside were five shiny copper bits.


	2. On the road to Cavall

**Part Two**

On the road to Cavall

The next morning, Kel resolved not to let last night's progress fade. Usually, Kel preferred listening to talking, especially during meals. She had a sinking suspicion Wyldon was the same way, and she also had a suspicion Tobe would talk only to her. That in mind, Kel made a point of being especially talkative that morning. She shared several stories about the tournaments she'd attended as a squire, and even coaxed a few tales out of Wyldon. All too soon, dawn came and it was time to ride.

"When did you unseat Lord Raoul?" Kel asked while Tobe dozed in the saddle.

"A little over ten years ago at Stone Mountain. I had bested him earlier as a squire, he wanted to see if he could beat me as a knight. He couldn't," Wyldon said with a shrug.

"Have you ever jousted with His Majesty?"

"Three times," Wyldon responded. Kel raised expectant eyebrows. "The first time he unhorsed me when he was a squire. The next two times I unhorsed him." Kel tried not to look too pleased.

"Lady," Tobe yawned in greeting, stretching. He usually didn't have trouble waking up, but he'd stayed up late the previous night talking with one of the local girls. Kel didn't relish the idea of Tobe growing up, but she knew puberty had to strike sometime. "Your lordship," he said to Wyldon.

"Good morning, Boon," Wyldon said courteously. Tobe frowned, then decided he didn't want to know.

"Lady, where are we going today?"

"We should be at Bellfast by sunset, assuming the roads aren't too muddy. If we don't make it to Bellfast, we sleep on the road. Tobe made a generally discontented sound. Kel raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Sable doesn't like sleeping on the road, and he complains constantly and loudly," Tobe explained. Kel shook her head.

"I don't think he's ever going to be a war animal," Kel said to Wyldon.

"Throwback," Wyldon agreed. Lightning cracked across the sky and rain began to pour in chilled sheets. "Marvelous." Kel smiled wanly, pulling her hood up. So much for Bellfast.

"Tobe, how do you spell "splendid?"" Kel asked. Tobe groaned.

"A quiz in the rain? That's just cruel, Lady. S-P-L-E-N-D-I-D."

"Arachnid," Kel said. With a sigh, Tobe began spelling. After fifteen words, Kel pronounced him competent. Tobe smiled, then launched into a game of trading riddles, which degenerated into trading news about the social happenings of New Hope after lunch. Tobe knew much more than Kel by virtue of his ability to become almost completely unnoticed.

Wyldon rolled his eyes and ignored them. _Women,_ he thought caustically, rubbing his bad arm with one hand. _If women stopped gossiping, the sky would fall for lack of air to hold it up._ Wyldon sighed inaudibly. _Don't lie to yourself, Cavall, you're too old for it. You're just feeling sulky because Mindelan's resolution to include you in conversation predictably didn't last past noon. And you've only yourself to blame._ Wyldon watched Kel and Tobe chat out of the corner of his eye for a few moments, then returned his attention to the surrounding countryside. _I'll just talk to Mindelan when Boon is dozing._

"What do you think, my lord?" Kel asked suddenly.

"I beg your pardon?" Wyldon said.

"How long will King Maggur hold his throne?"

"With most of his hostages gone, Tortall strong, no killing devices, and only his armies to support him? A year at the most," Wyldon said. "That is assuming he doesn't take more hostages or do something drastic. It's the latter that worries me." Kel nodded. She didn't ask what Maggur could do. She had nightmares enough.

"Let's go," Wyldon said, standing. Kel nodded and rose, glancing at the falling rain. There was no way they'd make Bellfast, but they could possibly find a decent camp before sundown. Sable shied away when Wyldon tried to mount, earning him a sharp rap on the nose. The horse crow-hopped twice as soon as Wyldon urged him forward, then balked at the road. Wyldon sighed and dismounted. He led Sable under a tree and proceeded to have a discussion punctuated with firm jerks on the bridle with the animal. Tobe added his two pence and the group proceeded on their way without further disruption.

I'm going to see this brainless twit is sold to some pretty, brainless young lady who'll braid ribbons in his hair and never ask of him anything remotely resembling proper equine behavior," Wyldon growled. Sable snorted.

"He says that suits him just fine," Tobe said with a grin.

"On second thought, the quarries are always looking for new animals to haul the stone. Hard work, roads as often mud as not, harsh men with whips for masters - sounds just the thing for you, doesn't it?" Wyldon told the black horse, who whinnied his dislike of the suggestion. "Thank you for the translation, Boon." Tobe nodded.

"But don't horses usually die their first year there?" Kel asked, frowning.

"Yes, they do. I'd never send one of my standard horses there, only culls are sent to the quarries," Wyldon said with a shrug. Sable again registered his discontent. Kel shook her head.

"If I had told Yuki our horses were smart enough intimidation and threats worked as a training tactic, she would have called me mad," Kel remarked.

"Who's to say we're not?" Tobe asked.

Several soggy hours later Tobe and Kel made camp while Wyldon checked over the two mules and three horses. The two surprisingly well-behaved mules showed their first signs of difficulty - they were too busy nuzzling Wyldon to hold still for inspection. Peachblossom behaved while his hoofs were inspected, but the instant Wyldon finished the last hoof and started to stand, the warhorse clamped his formidable teeth down on Wyldon's shoulder. With a snarl, Wyldon jerked himself free and, to Kel's shock, grabbed Peachblossom's ear and returned the favor.

"You bit him!" Tobe shrieked as Peachblossom whinnied in surprised pain.

"Once they learn you bite back it takes all the fun out of things," Wyldon said with a shrug. Kel stared, then turned back to her cooking.

"You bit Peachblossom. You!" Tobe said again in shock.

"After breaking enough of the creatures, you learn how to fight by their rules and yours," Wyldon said calmly. "War and training have more in common than most people believe."

"Don't say that to Neal. He'll take it as justification for every bad thing he's ever said about you," Kel muttered.

"Queenscove doesn't need justification. It takes too much thought," Wyldon retorted. Kel refrained from comment.

It rained all night, but when Kel woke up it was Spring. The air was clean and crisp, a hint of warmth to come in the breeze.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully to Wyldon as he emerged from his tent. Wyldon growled a reply, scratching irritably at the morning's stubble.

"Never chirp at a man before he's shaved, Mindelan."

"Not a morning person, my lord?" Kel asked sympathetically, following him to the stream.

"I am. _After_ I've scratched the fur off my face." Wyldon knelt by the stream, dipped his soap in, and began working up a lather. Kel washed her hair, glancing sidelong at Wyldon as he applied the lather to his face and dipped his razor in the water. Making certain not to look directly, Kel watched with fascination. While she'd heard about shaving from her brothers, friends, and even her father, she'd never actually observed the process. She finished scrubbing her hair at the same time Wyldon finished his right side. Kel squeezed her short locks dry and began washing her face, still watching from the corner of her eye as Wyldon scraped the hair off his left side, starting at the sideburns and working toward his chin.

"You get a better view if you look directly," Wyldon said in the same measured tones he'd used to tell her her sword was too low when she was a page. Kel blushed a deep crimson, looking down at the stream in embarrassment. "You act as if you've never seen a man shave before."

"I haven't," Kel said softly, once again watching sidelong as he shaved his upper lip. Wyldon lowered his razor to look at Kel.

"All those brothers and friends and you've never seen shaving?" He asked incredulously. "You jest."

"I'm not," Kel protested. "I was never in their bathrooms in the morning." One corner of Wyldon's mouth twitched.

"No, I suppose not." Wyldon tilted his head back and shaved the last bits of stubble from the underside of his chin and neck. "It's really not that interesting," Wyldon said, then splashed water on his face.

"Not to you," Kel said, her shyness fading. "You do it every day."

"True. And so will Tobe, eventually."

"You don't need to remind me," Kel said as they began walking back to camp. They met Tobe half-way, who gave them an odd look before proceeding to the stream to begin his own ablutions.

"Spoken like a true mother," Wyldon said. Kel raised her eyebrows. "No mother wants her children to grow up," Wyldon explained. Kel blushed again and finished cooking the breakfast Tobe had begun.

"How do you spell "postulate?"" Kel asked shortly after they started riding. Tobe looked up from flicking small, hard nuts at Peachblossom. His aim had improved, no one was struck by botched shots but Peachblossom. With a sigh, Tobe spelled the word and put the nuts away. After reviewing spelling, they covered math, geography and grammar until mid-morning.

"Education is important," Kel replied when Tobe sighed in relief at the lessons' end.

"I know, Lady, but you're a hard teacher," Tobe replied.

"You learn that way. Don't complain," Wyldon said. Tobe scowled at Wyldon's back. "Crown Tournaments are run differently than Progress Tournaments," Wyldon said to Kel. "Namely, they're organized. The top three placers receive honors, the top placer receives a purse of 1,000 gold crowns, a sum the Crown pays, thank Mithros." Kel nodded. Raoul had told her of Crown Tournaments. "For the first two days all the jousting and sword matches are competition rounds. By the third day enough people have been eliminated that the grounds are open for Free Rounds in the afternoon. Free Rounds are challenges and sparring."

"And here I thought I'd be getting a break from fighting," Kel murmured. There was no reason to assume she'd be challenged any less now as she'd been as a squire.

"You only get to play after you've done the day's work," Wyldon said sternly. "Each round is prepared the night before and posted that morning. The Free Rounds are run just as they were on the Progress. Neither you nor I will have time for them." Kel wasn't certain if she was happy about that or not. On one hand, she liked jousting, on the other, no one would be trying to run her through.

"Everything at a Crown Tournament is recorded. The rounds' pairings are written down, each contestant's points, the brackets for jousting and swordplay, all of it. Jousting and swordplay are both elimination; those who win both their matches go on to the next day, those who've only won one match are dropped into the loser's bracket. Archery is decided by points. Each hit is given so many points - zero for a bullseye, one for a hit in the first circle, two for the next, and so on. The person with the fewest points wins. We eliminate the competitors with the highest points each day until the top ten face each other the final day, all day.

"There are five rounds per day, every competitor competes two rounds a day. Each day's rounds are scripted, everyone knows who they'll be facing. Each event has its own pseudo-stadium. The stands can be disassembled for transport, Cavall carpenters will see to the stands' assemblage. The Lord Provost will provide guards to keep the crowds in hand, and there should be some of the Own there. We'll be spending most of our time in the Tabulation Tent, where scores are totaled up and the next day's rounds determined.

"Both competitors and spectators will be camping on Cavall grounds. Cavall has to provide food for the competitors and sell food to the spectators. We also have to see that the latrines function without polluting the aquifer nor creating too much of a stench. And, of course, all of this must be done without angering my vassals."

"Do they like you?" Tobe asked with a trace of sarcasm.

"They tolerate most of what I do. That won't last long if I allow people to camp on their crops, though." Kel smiled lightly. Wyldon's humor was wickedly dry, so much so his jokes were often missed or misunderstood. Tobe snorted.

"Lord Raoul told me some of what went on at an official tournament, but he didn't mention all the details. Running one of these must be a nightmare," Kel said, awed.

"This is a fact. The Tab Tent is always pure chaos, but the Rules Committee is worse. The Rules Committee sees that everyone follows the rules and establishes those rules. The Committee consists of the Tournament host, the Prime Minister, the training master, the Lord Magistrate, and the High Priest of the Mithran Temple in Corus. That is to say: myself, Sir Gareth the Younger, Padraig haMinch, Duke Turomot - who usually sends a representative - and currently a man named Cedric Smithwise, who doesn't know which end of the lance to hold." Wyldon's last words were almost bitter. "Last year Smithwise proposed that jousting be judged like archery, based on points, not whether one wins or loses. The year before that he proposed adding dancing as a tournament event. His first year he proposed the use of wooden swords in swordplay, not steel. This year I predict he'll want to add pattern dancing to the tournaments," Wyldon said tersely. "No non-knight should ever be allowed to propose new rules." He glanced at Tobe, who was watching squirrels play in the trees. "I must be boring you terribly."

"Not at all, my lord," Kel said, interested. "What else has happened?"

"Well, at the Stone Mountain tournament, a man tried to compete with a spelled bow. He knew the Lioness would be attending, but he tried it anyway."

"The emberstone," Kel guessed.

"First round. I don't know why he bothered. Everyone and their dog knows the Lioness can see magic. Though that wasn't the worst that happened that tournament. One of the archery judges that year was Porthos of Legann. After the round, he tried to show the competitors where they'd erred. This was against the rules, so the competitors tried to leave. In response, Porthos snatched one of the bows and proceeded to hold the competitors at arrow-point until he'd finished his lecture on archery."

"Why!"

"Senility. I would argue that was what motivated Burchard to call me before the Rules Committee that year, but he's only five years older than me. He accused me of putting lead in my armor so I'd be harder to throw from the saddle. All rubbish, of course, but I had to go to the hearing all the same. It's somewhat common at Tournaments for unskilled competitors to call skilled ones before the Rules Committee in order to eliminate them. For a group sworn to chivalry, knights are a dishonest lot." Kel nodded in agreement, remembering Joren and Vinson.

"I had jousting mishaps even without the committees. When Raoul first taught me how to joust, he suited me up and had me try it. Jump and the birds didn't wait to see if the impact had hurt me. The birds flew at his eyes and hair, and Jump grabbed a chunk of Raoul's leg." Wyldon's mouth twitched in amusement at the image.

"Jump is a good dog, provided he keeps away from my es." Wyldon looked sidelong at Kel. "I have a litter of ugly white wardogs at Fort Mastiff now."

"Jump's only a foot tall!" Kel protested.

"That has never been an obstacle to any dog. They… manage."

"Do you want me to pay for the pups?" Kel asked. Jump was her dog, and Wyldon had most likely had plans for that litter that hadn't included mongrel blood.

"No, you don't have the money to reimburse me a litter of Cavall dogs. They should be trainable and intelligent - I'll be able to find good homes for them."

"I'm still sorry."

"Keep a better eye on him next time. I keep the es in heat in cages against this sort of occurrence. Jump opened Whitestar's cage."

"I'll keep him away from the cages, sir, I promise."

They traded a few more tales before stopping for lunch. After the noon meal, Kel and Tobe began trading riddles. Kel invited Wyldon to join in, but he predictably refused. They weren't close enough for games or first names yet. Nevertheless, Tobe practiced his spear against an invisible enemy that night while Kel honed her skills against Wyldon.

The next morning dawned as clear as the last. Kel slipped the bits into Wyldon's pack while he shaved. She spent the morning talking with Tobe, and the afternoon conversing with Wyldon. Tobe refused to carry on a conversation with Kel's commander.  
_If I didn't know better,_ Kel thought, chewing her bread and cheese sandwich, _I would say Tobe is jealous of my lord. Tobe's never been jealous of any of the children or adults at New Hope, and he gets along with Dom fine, yet he will not get along with Lord Wyldon. Curious._ A hard clink against her teeth snapped Kel from her thoughts. She looked down. A copper point was sticking out from between her bread. Kel opened her sandwich knowing what she'd find. The five copper bits shone brightly against the cheese. _I'm going to have to watch my food the entire trip._

Passing the bits became something of a game between Kel and Wyldon that week, as well as a testament to each knight's stubbornness. The hiding places became ever more creative; from tying the bits to Kel's sword hilt, to tucking them into the hem of Wyldon's cloak. Neither knight had any prior clue as to where the bits would appear next. Kel even enlisted Peachblossom's help in the most creative return method. Wyldon said nothing about the clever hiding place - he acted as if it was perfectly natural for a warhorse to spit copper money at you in a mucous froth.

The troupe traveled at an easy pace. Since they had left Mastiff early, there was no need to strain the horses. They camped at twilight and practiced weapons and hand-to-hand combat, keeping their skills sharp. Kel divided her practice time between Tobe and Wyldon, as she did all day. Tobe would no more practice against Wyldon than he'd chat with him. Kel wasn't happy about this new quirk in her boy's behavior, but she couldn't find the privacy to discuss it with him on the road.

Part of the answer fell into Kel's lap during a game of "I Spy."

"I spy with my little eye something that is brown," Kel said.

"Hoshi," Tobe guessed. Kel shook her head.

"It has a black center." Tobe thought for a while, then gestured for another clue. "It absorbs light and reflects it," Kel said, smiling. Tobe frowned in thought, trying to remember anything the mages at New Hope had mentioned. _Absorbs light and reflects it, that's magic… but magic wouldn't be in the woods._

"Are you sure you see this now?"

"I'm looking at it right now," Kel said. Tobe looked around, then shook his head. "It can be warm, cold, and nothing at all." Tobe gave Kel a dirty look.

"A paradox?" Tobe asked after several moments.

"You can't see those," Kel said, teasing. "Though what I spy is part of one."

"Very helpful," Tobe said, staring at Hoshi's saddle horn in thought. _Brown with a black center, it absorbs light and reflects it, it's part of a paradox, it can be two temperatures and not have one, and it's right in front of my eyes-_ "His eyes," Tobe said in surprise, pointing to Wyldon. Kel nodded proudly. Tobe didn't look happy at solving the riddle. Instead of smiling, he edged Hoshi as close as he dared and hissed a demand at his mistress.

"Are you getting a crush on your _training master?_"

"Don't be ridiculous," Kel scoffed softly, slowing Peachblossom. Tobe searched Kel's face, then nodded. Kel frowned at the look of satisfaction in Tobe's eyes. "Tobe, are you worried that I'll be…"

"He's married, Lady; that's No-No Land in capital letters. I don't want to see you pining for something you can't ever have," the little old man in Tobe said seriously. Kel ruffled his hair, smiling.

"I can take care of myself. I'm no little girl to moon over her leader," Kel whispered, and urged Peachblossom to catch up to Sable and Wyldon. Tobe's brows knit together, not entirely certain.

"That may be, but you've got a habit of picking up strays in the oddest places, milady."

That night they found the most likely campsite already inhabited by a band of gypsies.

"Nonsense," the caravan leader, a man named Eric, said to the knights' offers to camp elsewhere, "there's room enough for all. There's an open space for your tents between Sadry and Brandon's wagons, right over there." And that had been the end of the matter. Camp set up, Wyldon donated part of their food to the general whole and took a place by the roaring fire the gypsies made for the evening meal. Kel sat next to Wyldon and Tobe sat next to her. The gypsies, like the Bazhir, were a gregarious people. They shared food and company equally, keeping the knights up much later than they had anticipated. At last, around ten o'clock, Eric turned to the knights.

"You have shared our hospitality. Our custom dictates that you give us a part of your people in return - a dance, song or tale." Wyldon, Kel and Tobe exchanged looks. Wyldon nodded his assent.

"One each, or as a group?" Wyldon asked politely.

"As you are a small group, one per person, if you please," Eric said with equal courtesy. Tobe went first, singing a beautiful rendition of "Briar and Thorn" in his perfect treble voice. Kel told of her mother's rescue of the Yamani Gods' Swords from Scanran pirates. Wyldon finished their offering with the old ballad "Shadow Lover." Kel shivered during the last verse. The song itself was disquieting; it was about a suicidal woman welcoming Death's embrace. Wyldon's rich voice only lent it more power.

"You've quite the voice," Kel murmured softly. Wyldon flushed and thanked her for the compliment. Tobe scowled.

Wyldon cleaned his tack shortly afterwards. Tucked inside a fold of each stirrup he found the bits.

"Is that a game?" a nearby gypsy girl asked curiously.

"As close to a game I've come in years," Wyldon responded softly, rubbing off the last of the dust.

"The more complex the mind, the greater the need for play," the girl said simply and skipped off to join her friends. Wyldon blinked several times, snorted, and rested the clean saddle on a branch. He climbed into his tent and fell asleep almost immediately.

At dawn a party of Scanrans attacked the caravan. Kel tumbled out of bed, jerking breeches and boots on over her nightshirt. She quickly donned her mail shirt, sword and helmet before dashing outside with her glaive. Eric's voice roared orders Kel, Wyldon and Tobe followed. Scanrans swarmed the camp, trying to break the circle of wagons, archers and fighters surrounding the livestock and tents. Tobe stayed with the horses, keeping them calm. Kel and Wyldon took up positions between a brilliant blue wagon and a lavender one.

Two burly Scanrans advanced on Kel, deciding the woman would be the weakest point. Kel parried the first man's downstroke with her glaive and kicked the other. The Scanran blocked her kick and attacked with his sword as the other renewed his offensive. Kel ducked and rolled, coming up with a perfect broom-sweeps-clean. The second Scanran took a gash to the arm. Kel reversed her move, using the iron-shod end of her pole arm to knock the Scanran's shield from his grasp. The men moved back, reevaluating their previous assumption. The men moved away from each other, trying to outflank her. Kel took a careful step back between the wagons, keeping both men in her sights. They tested her with their blades, working as a team to keep her almost overextended. Suddenly Kel lunged at the man on the left, moving her blade over and down, catching his sword and flinging it aside, then using the flat of the blade to render him unconscious. The scrape of blade on mail made her teeth hurt - the other Scanran had landed a blow.

Kel swung to the side, using the teak staff to take the man's next blow. The two fighters parried for several minutes before Kel dived low and buried her blade in the man's armpit. The Scanran screamed. Kel jerked her glaive free and ended it. Another Scanran leaped at her almost immediately, his first blow catching her by surprise. Kel fell, the left side of her face numbed by the impact. Kel rolled to the side, dodging the man's stab. Kel got to her feet, using her weapon's long reach to keep her enemy at bay. A cool trickle down her neck told her she had more than a bruise. She braced herself, this time paying attention to her back. The Scanran feinted left, Kel blocked right. The Scanran swore at her, and moved forward with a series of lighting strikes. Kel stopped and lunged, watching her opponent's torso for an opening. A pained shout from behind Kel did the trick. The Scanran glanced at the source. Kel didn't.

Kel pulled her weapon free in time to pull a Scanran raider from his horse. She slit the throat of another rider and gutted a third, taking a numbing impact to her left arm. The three remaining Scanrans retreated. Gypsy archers crept into the woods to insure they didn't make it back to the Vassa. Tobe brought Kel water. Kel drank one full canteen and half of another, looking around. Her ribs, arm and face were all protesting loudly, most especially her ribs.

"Where's my lord?" Kel asked, accepting bandaging from a gypsy woman. Kel placed the cloth over her cut cheek, stemming the blood.

"Healers' wagon," Tobe said, pointing to a pale green wagon on the other side of the camp. Kel nodded and strode across the camp, weaving her way between trampled tents and dead. Gypsies were already cleaning up the mess, piling the dead outside the circle of wagons.

"What happened?" Kel asked Tobe, coming close to the crowded healers' wagon.

"I don't know. He was pretty gray when they took him in," Tobe said. Kel frowned, then caught the attention of a small man in healer's white.

"Do you know anything about the welfare of Lord Wyldon?" Kel asked. When the man shook his head curtly, Kel offered her assistance. Tobe was set to work fetching and boiling water. Kel was given a roll of bandages and pointed to a row of wounded men. After she'd bandaged the last man, Kel put some bruise balm on her ribs. Her face had a small cut that would heal easily, and her arm was also only bruised. She'd been fortunate.

Tobe brought Kel breakfast. Kel forced the food down, worried about her comrade. She wasn't foolish enough to interrupt healers at work, but she did wish someone would see fit to tell her what had befallen Wyldon. Shortly before noon her wish was granted. A small, dark man in pale green approached Kel, who was then assisting the burial detail. He had laugh lines around his eyes, but his eyes weren't laughing now.

"You're Keladry?" the man asked. Kel nodded.

"I am Patric, the chief healer's assistant. Wyldon is in the wagon. He was hurt fairly badly. You may see him now. We've repaired the damage, but he will require another day's rest at minimum before he can travel. You are welcome to stay with us until he is ready. We also have wounded who must rest before we can continue."

"Thank you. What happened?" Kel asked.

"He was sliced from his right collarbone to his mid-pelvic region, most likely with a halberd. You will be assured to know we managed to save his manhood," the healer's assistant added softly. "He will suffer no deficiencies in that area, though you will most likely want to wait a week for the gash to heal fully."

"Oh, no," Kel protested, blushing furiously, "we're just knights."

"Then you understand. Good. He's in there, right on your left." With that Patric walked away. Kel looked after him in dismay, then walked to the pale green wagon. By the time she entered, Kel had her expression under control. She had no desire to explain the cause of her embarrassment to her commander.

Kel paused in the doorway, letting her eyes adjust to the dim interior. There were two beds inside, both filled. On the other side of the beds were cabinets that most likely contained the healers' supplies. There were other cabinets above the beds, all securely anchored to the walls, Kel noted with satisfaction. On one bank of cabinets was a carafe of water. As Patric had said, Wyldon lay in the left-hand bed. He was asleep, one hand resting gently on his stomach. His chest was bare save the bandages, which stretched from collarbone to breastbone, then covered his torso completely from his armpit downward and burrowed beneath the blankets covering his lower body. _He'll insist on paying for those,_ Kel noted absently. She tip-toed quietly across the wood floor, trying not to wake either occupant. The man on the right stayed asleep, but Wyldon's brown eyes peeked open.

"Water," he croaked. Kel nodded. She filled a cup set behind the carafe, then helped Wyldon drink it. He consumed the entire carafe before his thirst was slaked.

"Healing makes me thirsty," Wyldon whispered almost sheepishly. Kel nodded, then gave the carafe to a nearby boy to refill.

"Healing always makes me tired. How do you feel?" Kel asked, sitting on the bed gingerly. Wyldon shifted with a grimace.

"Lousy," he growled softly. "How badly am I hurt?"

"The healers repaired the worst of the cut, but you have to rest at least a day before you can travel. The gypsies have to wait for some of their wounded to recuperate. They said we could stay with them until you're healed. What happened?"

"Two of the Scanrans had swords, one had a halberd, then a Scanran with a mace joined in. I couldn't protect all the lengths at once. He cut through my mail," Wyldon whispered.

"The mail kept you from being cut in two," Kel said. "We might be able to buy more on the road, if the gypsies can't sell us some."

"I killed the mace-man and the swordsmen," Wyldon said randomly.

"Why didn't the halberd-man finish the job?"

"I… did… something completely unworthy of a knight and killed him." Kel frowned. "More water, please." Kel helped him drink another cup of water, gently holding him up while steadying the cup in his hands. "Hate being wounded," Wyldon murmured. Kel nodded sympathetically, holding the cup while he breathed. Wyldon sipped a few more times before pillowing his head on her shoulder and falling asleep. Kel carefully set down the cup and laid Wyldon down. She pulled the covers up over his chest and stood. Kel blushed at Patric's knowing look.

"He'll sleep now for several hours. You should go eat."

"We're not lovers," Kel said softly.

"Of course not," Patric said patronizingly. "Your reputation is safe with us. We're not as stuffy as farming folk." Kel gritted her teeth and thanked the man for his time. She ate lunch and took a nap. She checked in on Wyldon at mid-afternoon, but he was still sleeping. Wyldon slept the rest of that day, waking only to request water, food, and to use the chamber pot.

The next morning he was feeling well enough to drink some soup on his own. Even though Kel knew she was only feeding the rumors, she still checked on Wyldon often.

"Cluck, cluck, cluck," Wyldon said in greeting when Kel brought her supper to the healers' wagon that evening.

"I beg your pardon, sir?"

"You're being a mother hen."

"I'm merely showing appropriate concern for a wounded comrade," Kel said, blushing. Wyldon snorted his skepticism. "My lord, I have no motherly feelings for you whatsoever, I swear on my shield. I'd do the same for Raoul," Kel said, answering the silent question in his eyes. Wyldon nodded and sipped his soup.

"I can't wait to eat solid food again," he said, changing the subject. Kel nodded. They ate silently for an awkward stretch. "This is an odd request, but could you scratch my back?" Wyldon asked softly, flushing. "I can't reach with these bandages on." Kel smiled in amusement. She reached back and gently scratched the cotton bandages. "A little to the left please... up a bit… right there… ahh." Wyldon arched his back as much as his wound would allow, closing his eyes in contentment.

"What did you do to the halberd-man?" Kel asked, pausing in her scratching. "I've puzzled on it for nearly two days, and I can't figure it out." Wyldon muttered something as Kel resumed her movements. "What was that?" Kel asked. She moved up his spine and across his shoulders, then back down to his waist. She knew how much bandaged skin itched, even if it wasn't healing. Wyldon muttered something incomprehensible again, his ear tips turning red. "'Warriors are to report clearly,'" Kel said, quoting his own words back to him.

"He sliced me and knocked me down. I couldn't stand and he was about to spear me, so I… distracted him and stabbed him."

"How?" Kel persisted.

"I… kicked him where no man should kick another," Wyldon said uncomfortably. "You're turning me into a girl."

"I am not," Kel said, stopping her ministrations and picking up her spoon. "I have never kicked a man in the groin to win a fight. Ever. Besides, he deserved it. If he'd been wearing a codpiece as he should have, he wouldn't have been "distracted," would he?" Kel said matter-of-factly.

"No," Wyldon admitted.

"He was trying to kill you, and you kicked him as a last resort. I'd say that makes it fair," Kel continued. "Nor does it make you a girl - you don't have the correct plumbing." She blushed deeply, realizing how insubordinate she'd been. "Meaning no disrespect, my lord," Kel apologized.

"None taken," Wyldon said, turning his head to hide his smile. "Gender is only "plumbing" to you, then?" Kel thought before she responded.

"Half and half, I think. If a woman thinks she's a man, she's not a man. She's not a woman, either. Something in-between, I'd guess. If a man thinks he's a man, he's a man. It doesn't need to be "proven." I don't know how you could prove your gender. You either have it or you don't."

"A man is to prove he doesn't think he's a woman by being tough. Men don't cry, they suffer in silence, and they face things alone. We don't break, we're always strong enough for those around us to lean on."

"Like a knight."

"Without the "protect the weak" and "be honorable" parts," Wyldon said.

"Sir Myles believes that's rubbish. He said humans weren't made to stand alone, regardless of gender," Kel said, remembering Sir Myles of Olau's frequent lectures against chivalry.

"Sir Myles adopted the Lioness. That fact alone proves he's mentally unstable," Wyldon said. Kel's lips curled upward at the edges in spite of herself.

"You should be more careful," Kel said, standing. "If you keep mellowing, Neal won't call you "the Stump" any more."

"If I hear that name on your lips again, I'll see you get latrine duty for a month," Wyldon said. Kel gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder in farewell before leaving the healers' wagon.

"Yessir," she said. Wyldon watched Kel leave.

"My life used to be so simple," he said to no one in particular.

"Women is like that," the other patient said enviously, startling Wyldon. "But imagine how awful life'd be without 'em."

The next morning Wyldon was well enough to walk. He purchased a mail shirt from one of the gypsy smiths and arranged payment for his healing, as well as the food given to both Kel and Tobe. Wyldon found himself in the odd position of trying to raise the price while the caravan leader kept insisting on a lower one. Finally the two men were able to barter a cost of two gold nobles. That evening the Matriarch of the caravan asked the knights to join her before the fire.

"You fought well to protect us, taking wounds yourself. We are grateful. My grandmother was Doi, so in repayment I will tell your fortunes," the old woman said. She was thin and fit, with long, gray hair woven in a braid. Her blue dress was simple, but of excellent cloth. The Gypsies treated her with great respect.

"Thank you," Wyldon said politely. "I would bow, but…" Wyldon gestured to his still-tender chest.

"I understand. It pleases me you obey Assistant Healer Patric's instructions. I would not hear the end of it if I were the cause of a patient re-opening his wound." The crowd laughed. "Your respect for common and Gypsy blood is rare."

"Too rare," Wyldon agreed. The Matriarch pointed to Tobe, then gestured for him to sit. Tobe did, swallowing nervously.

"Give me your hand," the Matriarch instructed. Tobe held out his hand, palm up. She took it, carefully examining his palm. "You will stay as you are until you are as she is - you will have your own strays, and a mate beside. The Gods reward those who serve them." Tobe nodded and thanked her. Kel sat down next, and offered her hand. The matriarch's touch was warm and dry, like ancient paper. The old woman's eyes were a clear, bottomless gray. The woman's eyes searched the lines of her hand.

"There is much work ahead for the Protector of the Small," the Matriarch said. "Do not grimace, it is your name until those who know of it are dust." The woman paused, tracing a scar. "Many duties I see before you. You will have to chose between them as you have chosen before, but the price will be both less and more dear. You will have to chose between your duty to the Voice of the Tribes, your King, and your duty to your friend, lord, and lover; in your choice will rest the border."

"Thank you," Kel whispered, taking her hand back.

"Your turn, Wyldon of Cavall." Wyldon said and offered his right hand. The Matriarch took it, poring over it as she had the others' fates. "I am sorry. You will be free from your burden soon, but not in the way you hope. You cannot change the Vassa, nor hope to change its flow. There are other rivers for you to sail."

"My thanks," Wyldon said politely, standing.

"You don't believe me," the Matriarch said calmly.

"It's not that. I merely don't understand."

"Between the future and me there is a veil. The shapes I see through it are misty, but they are there. You will understand my words soon enough," the Matriarch said. Wyldon bowed his head in respect, but said nothing.

The next morning, the Gypsy band headed north and the knights rode south-east.

"Patric is right, you know," the Matriarch said in farewell. "Not now, but he will be." Wyldon's brows snapped together in confusion, but he kept silent. Kel blushed.

"What do you think she meant about the Vassa?" Kel asked once the gypsies were out of sight. She understood her fortune well enough - as the Matriarch had said, she'd faced the choice between her orders and saving those under her protection before. Tobe's she understood as well. Wyldon's, though, was a complete mystery.

"I don't. The gods-touched sometimes receive visions from Mithros or the Goddess, but fortune-telling is charlatanism at worst, guesswork at best. The future isn't set in stone," Wyldon said firmly. Kel remained silent. After her experience with the Chamber, she wasn't so certain.

"What was it that Patric thought?" Wyldon asked.

"It was nothing," Kel said, looking away.

"If it was blush-worthy on your part, it wasn't nothing. I taught you to report precisely and honestly," Wyldon said sternly.

"He thought we were lovers," Kel said uncomfortably.

"See? Her predictions are rubbish. Fairies will carouse in my woods before you and I will bed each other," Wyldon said contemptuously. _He's right,_ Kel thought, a knot of tension between her shoulder blades unwinding. She shook off the creepy feeling that had hounded her since the Matriarch's prophesies. _That'll never happen._

Three days later they stopped in a small city to refresh their supplies. As they shopped in the open-air market, they also traded news with the locals. Kel found the copper bits tucked into the corned-beef and egg sandwich she bought for breakfast.

"Where did you learn sleight-of-hand?" Kel asked, breaking the unwritten rule of silence. The crowd was large enough to be noisy, but small enough Kel didn't get jostled much.

"I had… disreputable friends when I was young," Wyldon said, examining some travel bread and spice packets. "It comes in handy, especially when dealing with George."

"Lady Alanna's husband?" Kel asked, purchasing some dried meat and packing it into one mule's saddle bag. Wyldon nodded and bought the bread, spices, and more meat. He also purchased something new called "dried milk." "Why don't you call him by his surname?" Kel asked.

"Esthetics. "Pirate's Swoop" is too unwieldy, "Pirate's" is bad, and "Swoop" is horrid. I also like my ears right where they are," Wyldon said dryly. Kel smiled. His humor wasn't laughable, but his wit was amusing. They moved on to the fruit stands. The pickings were meager compared to what they'd find in the summer, but there was still a lot to look at. "We should be reaching the Great North Road in two days. We can either take the Road west to Trebond, south to Port Cayann, then head east through Corus on the Great Road East and straight on until the Cavall border; or, we can cut cross-country to Goldenlake and head south. Heading to Goldenlake is shorter by 50 miles, however, we could easily make up that time on the Great Roads. Any particular preference?"

"You're consulting her?" Tobe, who held the mules' reins, said in surprise. Wyldon gave him a sharp look.

"It is polite to consult one's traveling partner," Wyldon said frostily.

"The best route would really depend on the weather," Kel broke in. "If it's going to rain for weeks, the Great Roads would be easier on the horses and faster. If the weather is sunny, then fifty miles is a good distance to cut. If you will finish shopping, I'll find a find a Temple of Mithros and ask the weather-mage, if it has one. I know Baldur's Bridge has a weather-mage we could ask."

"Good thinking, Mindelan. If there's no weather-witch here, we'll take the detour to Baldur's Bridge and decide there." Kel handed Peachblossom's reins to Tobe.

"Well, I don't believe I've seen y'ens hereabouts before," a drawling voice said before Kel could leave. The knights turned to see a tall, fat man with small, piggy eyes and a bulbous nose. He wore a long knife at his side over a gaudy red tunic, cream shirt, and cream breeches. His brown boots were sturdy and well-made. On his shoulder was the badge of a Chief Provost.

"We're traveling through," Wyldon said courteously, stowing the dried fruit he had paid for while talking to Kel. "I am Lord Wyldon of Cavall, this is Lady Keladry of Mindelan." The piggy man looked at Kel, his gaze starting at her boots and wandering leisurely to her face, then settling on her small breasts.

"I'm the Chief Provost, Master Quays. You, though, can call me William," he purred in what was supposed to be a seductive manner. "I've heard quite a bit about you." Quays expression went from stubborn to a lewd leer.

"Thank you, Master Quays," Kel said, feigning ignorance of the real meaning behind his words.

"You know, while you're here, you should give commoners a try." Quays stepped near to Kel, who took a step closer to Peachblossom. "Nobles aren't the only ones who can show you a good time," Quays finished with a pointed look at Wyldon, who shook his head at the other man's folly.

"I'm not interested in a good time," Kel said, frowning.

"Oh, you're interested in the good time I'm offering," Quays said and snatched at Kel's chest. Peachblossom took the opportunity to register his dislike, clamping the Provost's arm in his strong teeth.

"Watch out for the horse," Wyldon said smoothly, "he's fair temperamental." Wyldon finished buying a new belt knife and some nuts, then carefully packed them away while the Provost hollered and pounded Peachblossom's nose to no avail. "You really should let go of him," Wyldon suggested to the animal.

"Let him go, Peachblossom," Kel said just as evenly. Peachblossom held on for a few more moments to illustrate the point he wasn't tamed, then let go. The Provost waddled away at a quick pace, screaming curses at Kel and her company.

Kel made her inquiry at the temple, which did have a weather-mage in residence. The projected weather was clear, so they decided upon the shorter route.

"If the rumors were true, I'd be the easiest wench in the Eastern Lands," Kel remarked wryly shortly after she, Tobe, and Wyldon left the city limits. "I'm surprised he thought a leer and an invitation were all it took, though."

"That would be Esmond's fault. He's very conservative - he said that Joren did the right thing by making you miss your Examinations. He would see to it you had no reputation on his lands. I admit it's my fault as well, traveling alone with you. I should have had Sarrasri come along," Wyldon said.

"Daine is still needed in the North; Maggur might try something with you away. It's not like it matters in any case. Folk who believe things like that would believe them even if we had a chaperone," Kel said. Wyldon grunted in agreement.

"Cavall!" A man on horseback said as he came over the hilltop, surprising both Kel and Wyldon. "What are you doing here?" Wyldon reined his horse to a stop, as did Tobe and Kel.

"Traveling, Esmond. I've been summoned to Cavall by the Crown to host the Midsummer Tournament," Wyldon said calmly, as the man and his two companions drew close. All of the men wore falconry gauntlets and rich falconry wear. They were all older, with stern features. The man who spoke to Wyldon had a narrow, haughty face with a sharp nose. The other two men she recognized - Burchard of Stone Mountain and Sir Ansil of Groten.

"Mindelan, these are my friends Baron Esmond of Marti's Hill, Lord Burchard of Stone Mountain, and Sir Ansil of Groten," Wyldon said.

"I've met Lord Burchard and Sir Ansil," Kel said, remembering her years as Raoul's squire. Burchard had accused her of causing his son Joren's death in the Chamber of the Ordeal. Ansil had insulted Lord Raoul, for which Kel had challenged him - and won.

"Ah, yes, the "Lady Knight,"" Esmond said snootily. "Why is she with you, Wyldon?"

"She is going to help me run the Tournament," Wyldon said carefully, not liking his friend's tone. "Her logistics, penmanship, and command skills will be quite useful."

"I'm certain she's very useful to you, Wyldon, traveling in cool weather like this," Ansil said coldly. Kel's eyes widened and Wyldon's face flushed, in anger or embarrassment Kel couldn't tell. Tobe opened his mouth to make a retort and closed it when Kel gestured curtly for silence. _Perhaps they're only teasing,_ Kel thought, _but they don't look teasing to me._

"Will you allow it to compete?" Burchard sneered.

"She won't have time," Wyldon said with a subtle emphasis on the "she."

"No, I'm certain you'll keep her busy day and night," Esmond said, "earning her keep and the privileges you've given her."

"Friends do not speak to each other in such a manner," Wyldon said crisply. "Your teasing is starting to offend me."

"Who said we were friends any longer, Cavall?" Burchard sneered. "I don't make friends with those who've abandoned the traditions this kingdom was founded on. Do you, Ansil? Esmond?"

"No, I don't," Ansil said coldly.

"I'll see you at the Tournament, Progressive," Esmond finished and the three rode away. Wyldon stared after them, gaping speechlessly in pain. Kel swallowed numbly. She'd never heard a more thorough rejection of someone. Nor had she ever before been the cause of one.

"I'm sorry," Kel whispered, something she'd been doing a lot of as of late. _It never occurred to me he'd have a price to pay for letting me stay and treating me fairly. Foolish me._ Kel rested a comforting hand on his arm. "The loss is theirs, not yours. You're too good for their like. They are only honorable and courteous to their allies and superiors; you're courteous and fair to everyone. You're flexible enough you could still pass your Ordeal if you had to take it again. They'd take the same path as Joren."

"They are… were… my friends," Wyldon said softly.

"And you're not friendless without them. Not all of your conservative companions will abandon you. And Raoul's still with you." Kel paused. "You're my friend, in any case." Wyldon's gaze turned slowly to Kel, staring in touched incredulity. He slowly rested a hand on hers, giving it a fond squeeze.

"Thank you, Mindelan," Wyldon said, his voice smooth as wine even then, but deeper than normal. Her surname was softened to almost a nickname. He released her hand and turned Sable to the road. He rode silently the rest of the day, and Kel let him alone. That night they came upon an inn, brightly colored and filled with music. Kel dealt with the innkeeper. It was a testament to Wyldon's black mood that he didn't even protest as Kel paid for the entire group.

The music and cheery company at dinner brightened Wyldon's mood somewhat. As he finished his salad, though, his expression changed to one of alarm and he gripped his throat.

"What?" Kel asked. Wyldon searched quickly through the half-mound of greens, producing four copper bits.

"I swallowed one," Wyldon said softly. Kel snorted, then quickly turned her laughter into a coughing fit. Tobe showed no such tact. Wyldon's scowl did little to discourage Kel's humor and much to encourage Tobe's.

"Just remember I know where both of you sleep," Wyldon promised grumpily. His threat utterly failed to produce any reduction in mirth.

Wyldon stayed quiet for the next few days. He came out of his shell suddenly, startling Kel as she took a bite of rabbit.

"Trebond is going to challenge you at the Tournament."

"What?" Kel demanded, dropping her fork.

"To test your skills. She's going to want to spar with you, nor will she take no for an answer. Would you like me to show you some advanced sword techniques, so you aren't humiliated?" Kel, always eager to learn and wary of fighting her idol, readily agreed. "And Mindelan," Wyldon said, leaning forward to rest a hand on her arm, "_do_ try to win, won't you? I'm not saying you will, but if you lose in two minutes, both Raoul and I are going to hear about it for years." Kel told him she'd try, but he'd best not get his hopes up. "True. I can't even best her regularly, but there's no sense giving up before you've started."

"Yuki and Shinko are going to do the same thing," Kel said, Wyldon's comment reminding her of things said in her friends' recent letters. Wyldon asked her what she was talking about. "I told them how good you are with a halberd, and they're planning to try you with a glaive at the Tournament." Kel did not mention she would be teased mercilessly if her favored training-master couldn't hold his own with a woman's weapon. "Would you like to practice?" Wyldon thought about Kel's veiled offer to teach him a "savage pigsticker," as he'd once called it, for several moments. He decided the loss to his pride would be greater if two noblewomen routed him than if a former student taught him.

Thus, in addition to evening practice, an hour or two was spent in lessons. Wyldon taught Kel the advanced swordsmanship he'd promised, while Kel taught him to adapt his halberd skills to the glaive. Though he'd rather have been dipped in oil than admit it, Wyldon found the natural grace and balance of the glaive very appealing. He also proved to be as eager and apt a pupil as Kel. Tobe watched the weapon-work with mixed feelings. Kel enjoyed learning and teaching, practicing her new skills at every lunch break. Tobe was also glad Kel's commander was finally acknowledging his mistress's favorite weapon was as practical as any Tortallan device. What he did not like was the further closeness between Keladry and Wyldon these lessons fostered.

Despite her usual common sense and pragmatism, Tobe decided, Kel had a noble's completely impractical stupidity about love. From what he'd learned from Kel's friends, her first crush had been on a man she'd dared not try to take and her first affair had been with a man engaged to be married to someone else. Kel picked men she couldn't have, and the Lord of Cavall was as unavailable as it was possible to be and still be breathing. No, any form of bond between them was bad news as far as Tobe was concerned.

However, Tobe saw no way to stop Kel from liking Wyldon. He'd tried monopolizing her time, only to be forcibly shoved aside when Kel decided it was time to talk with Wyldon. Tobe also tried refusing to talk or practice with him, only to find Kel merely divided her time equally between them. He had tried disparaging Wyldon to Kel, but that had only lasted two sentences. Half-way through his second sentence, Kel had vigorously rebuked him, defending her new friend's honor with the same zeal she defended Raoul or Neal. To Tobe, this was a very bad sign.

Tobe's worries aside, the routine of breaking camp, riding, lunch, riding, making camp, practice, lessons, sleep and watch continued virtually unbroken until on May first they arrived at Farsight, the city that marked the northernmost edge of the Cavall border.

The first person the crew met was the Farsight crier, who promptly launched into shouts of "my lord's home!" This call was promptly relayed throughout the market square, precipitating a waterfall of well-wishers and curious vassals. Kel noticed a sharp similarity to the way New Hope's citizens greeted her return to the town in the way the Cavallese treated their lord. In the first fifteen minutes Wyldon settled three disputes, met four new births, and lifted a basket of puppies out of the way of trampling feet. After about half an hour, the crowd found other things to occupy their time, and the greetings slowed to a trickle.

"That answers the question if your vassals like you or not," Kel remarked. "Tolerate what you do, indeed." Wyldon shot her a dirty look. They led their horses down the main street through town, leisurely looking in shop windows and greeting those who said hello. Kel, though not normally a jewelry person, had to stop an admire a beautiful necklace in a jeweler's shop. It was four teardrop rubies suspended from a silver chain, elegant and perfect. Kel wished briefly she could wear pretty things like that and not look foolish.

"Every time I forget you're a girl, you do something like this," Wyldon said.

"Just a passing wish," Kel said. "It's lovely, but far too expensive for something I'd only wear one or two nights." Wyldon's mouth twitched in amusement.

"Better."

As they rode toward Cavall Keep, they passed fields and orchards, all in neat order. Workers in the fields waved, and often stopped work to talk with their lord. Much of the talk was greeting and gossip, and just as much was complaint.

"My lord Wyldon, will you tell this heathen to stop stealing my head of water every week!" one woman snapped.

"I don't steal it, it's my turn by rights. Lord Wyldon, this one's been harping on my constantly, never a rest," the man responded, red-faced with anger.

"And who is to have the water according to the ditch-rider? He is, of course, the only one who is supposed to be changing the head-gates at all," Wyldon asked in his measured voice, face unreadable. The man's flush took on a different shade.

"That's what I thought. Do not interfere with the ditch-rider's duties again, Fealeron, or I will be most displeased. Such as it is, I will see you pay the fine, either in funds or service." The man bowed his head and muttered an abashed "yes, my lord" and stood aside. The woman smirked and turned to go.

"And Seanna," Wyldon said, "next time, take your grievance to the ditch-rider." The woman's smirk disappeared.

"Ditch-rider?" Kel asked as they rode on.

"And idea of my own invention. I got tired of dealing with such disputes, so I appointed specific men for each area to regulate the irrigation. He sees that each person gets their share of water. He's the only one with the authority to change the head-gates, and anyone else who does so must pay a fine," Wyldon said.

"That's fair clever," Tobe said in surprise.

"Thank you," Wyldon said, waving to a pair of tenants. A while later, another man came to say hello. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with black hair and blue eyes. Silver glinted in his hair.

"Welcome back, my lord. Will you be here long?"

"Just long enough to organize the Midwinter Tournament, hold it, and take it down. Then I have to return north," Wyldon said.

"So we've got the tournament. Lovely," the man said, "I'm sure you'll see them nobles stay out of our fields?"

"They'll stick to the roads," Wyldon assured him.

"Your squire's grown. And changed. He's not bouncin' all over everywhere," the man said approvingly.

"I'm not Owen," Kel said, suppressing a smile of amusement, "I'm Kel. I'm going to be helping Lord Wyldon organize the tournament." The man snorted.

"Better you than that "Lady Knight." Women have no place on the battlefield. Mark my words, that chit's going to get her men killed. I certainly wouldn't want her defending I me. /I Begging your pardon, my lord." Wyldon's eyes went cold at the man's words.

"She is the Lady Knight, you ninny," Tobe snarled hotly, forgetting all his grammar lessons. "She's defended peasants an' nobles, an' built up the whole refugee camp an' defended it with nothing but a few squads an' convicts! She even saved the refugees from Blayce an' Stenmun, rescuin' them from Scanra with nothin' but a few knights and some Own! So you pipe down 'till you knows what you're talkin' of!"

"I believe you owe Mindelan an apology," Wyldon said coldly, holding Tobe's shoulder to keep him from leaping at the peasant. The man flushed, but apologized. Wyldon nodded.

"The Chamber knows what kind of knight the realm needs, and it makes the correct decision."

"Yes, milord." Wyldon nodded, said farewell, and continued. Kel shook her head in disgust. Even after everything that had happened, people still thought she didn't deserve her shield.

"Don't let it bother you, Mindelan."

"I don't," Kel said. "I won't be able to win everyone, but maybe later, after more women become knights, the general opinion will change."

"The general opinion is changing," Wyldon said. "If I can be convinced, others can." Kel smiled in amusement, looking around. The land was green and rolling, divided by irrigation ditches bordered by high, lush grass. Some fields held only plants, animals grazed on others. The land was a picture of peaceful plenty. In the distance, Kel could see trees.

"It's beautiful land, sir," Kel said. Wyldon nodded.

"My Lord!" a woman called. She had gray hair and a broad frame. She hiked across the field as Wyldon halted. "How long are you back for?"

"Just a few months, and most of it will be spent working. Cavall is hosting the Midsummer Tournament." Wyldon held up a hand. "I'll see the competitors and spectators keep to the roads."

"And after that, milord?" the woman asked.

"I'm heading back north," Wyldon said politely.

"Back north. To fight the Scanrans. You're going to get yourself killed one of these days. Why don't you retire, my lord, manage your estates like anyone your age should do?" the woman demanded, putting her hands on her hips. Wyldon shook his head.

"The kingdom needs me, Nara. And I don't like the sedentary lord's life much. It gets boring too quickly," Wyldon said, smiling slightly.

"Hiking hell to nowhere isn't good for your health, especially the chill north. You," Nara snapped to Kel, "I suppose you're as bad as he is. If you like my lord so much, you'll talk him out of his mad desire to die miles from home on some enemy sword." Having said her piece, the woman turned and stormed away.

"Nara is rather opinionated," Wyldon commented. "She cares, but I'm not ready for a deathbed yet."

"Of course not, my lord. You can still beat almost anyone at jousting, and you can hold your own against four Scanran raiders. If you tried to retire… I'm not sure what I'd do, but I'd certainly protest," Kel said dryly. "It would be a waste of good material." Wyldon smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He covered it with his hand out of habit, trying to smooth it away to no avail. Tobe told him loss of emotional control was a sign of senility, earning a lighthearted buffet from Kel. Tobe scowled when Kel looked away. He hadn't been teasing.

It took them a full day to get to Cavall Keep, which lay at the center of Cavall. They rode through the main gate, then halted in the courtyard. Wyldon dismounted, and handed Sable's reins to Tobe. Tobe passed them off to a nearby groomsman, then untied the mule's leaders from his saddle. For obvious reasons, Kel kept hold of Peachblossom.

"Keep that bloody horse from shying," Wyldon ordered, just as a child's cry echoed over the grounds.

"GGGGGRRRRRRAAAANNNNDPAAA'S HOOOME! FROOONT GAAATE!" Seconds after this call, children boiled out of every nook and cranny and ran across the yard toward Wyldon. The first to arrive was a young girl of about eight with light brown hair and a dark red skirt. With her was a girl of four, with red hair and a blue skirt. Wyldon swept the girl of four up and set her on his hip as the eight-year-old threw her arms around his waist. After that the children came too quickly to identify, swarming around Wyldon, all chattering at once. Wyldon knelt in their midst, smiling and laughing, somehow managing to listen to everyone. The children ranged from thirteen to barely a year, too many of them to be just his grandchildren. Hot on the heels of the children came the dogs, and barking mass of black that descended on Wyldon with as much exuberance as the young ones.

_I wish Neal could see this,_ Kel thought, grinning as she watched the horde maul Wyldon. After a few moments he calmed them, ordering the dogs down in a firm voice and calming the children. After this, the adults came to greet Wyldon. Two young women hugged him and he shook hands with the older woman and the two men. One man was older and dressed simply, the other was young and dressed in a mage's robes. The groomsman took Hoshi, Sable, and the mules from Tobe. Tobe took Peachblossom and followed the groomsman.

Wyldon came from the crowd with his arm on the shoulder of a girl of about ten. She had black hair and Wyldon's eyes, and her skirt looked like it had seen neater days; it was scuffed with dirt and other things. She was solemn, but with a pixie-like face.

"This is Kida's daughter, Kel," Wyldon said, gesturing to the first young woman who'd hugged him. The woman was fit, with premature crow's feet at her eyes. Kel guessed she'd seen a hard life, but she smiled at it. The woman had her father's wide mouth, but had not inherited his square, stubborn face. "And this," he said to the girl, "is Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan." The girl's eyes grew as round as saucers.

"No!" she gasped, looking from Kel to her grandfather. Wyldon nodded, and the girl erupted into shrieks of joy. "That's the Lady Knight, that's the Lady Knight!" She called to the others, on the off-chance they'd gone stone-deaf in the past forty seconds and hadn't heard.

"Kel!" Wyldon said sharply. Kel stood to attention. "Is that any way a young lady of Cavall behaves?"

"No, sir," the girl said, bowing her head. She turned to Kel and curtsied. "Welcome to Cavall Keep, Lady." Kel realized the little girl's name was Kel, too. Kel looked at Wyldon in shock, then blushed.

"Kida decided to protest your probation by naming her newborn daughter after you. She did not realize your nickname was "Kel," Mindelan." Kel the older looked down at Kel the younger.

"You can just call me Mindelan. It'll avoid confusion," Kel said stupidly. Someone had named a child after her. I Oh my goodness. /I 

"I want to be a Lady Knight like you, Lady," Kel of Cavall said formally, "and defend the kingdom like Grandpa."

"It's hard work," Kel said, "very hard work."

"I know. Grandpa told me. I run all the time, though, and lift things. And I watch the guards and ask them about their weapons and how they do things. I'm going to make it. I just missed this year's training by a few months."

"Run all the time, what an understatement. Well, she's made up her mind and there's no stopping her. Don't think you'll get away from Kel, either, "Mindelan." She worships the ground you and Wyldon walk on," the older woman Wyldon had shook hands with said. She was small and beautiful, despite her age. She wore a simple but well-made gown of burgundy cotton that accented her striking green eyes. _She must be the stewardess. I wonder where his wife is?_


	3. Unusual Behaviour

**Part Three**

Unusual Behavior

Nadin was Wyldon's grandson, a studious boy with the Healing Gift who wanted to be a teacher or clerk. He was the son of Vaye, Wyldon's second child. After a little prodding, he proved to be a well of information about the Cavall family.

"We're more like a tribe, really," Nadin said as they headed to the servant mistress's office. "Grandpa is one of five kids, then he had four; Aunt Kida, Mama, Aron - who's on the southern coast right now, he's a knight - and Ferhan. Uncle Ferhan's weird, but he's nice. Mama says he needs a keeper." Nadin looked sidelong at Kel. "He's completely scatterbrained about anything but his magic. Papa says he'll be blackrobe if he remembers to put his clothes on before he goes to the laboratory every morning."

"He sounds quite a bit like Numair, only worse. "Papa" is...?"

"Soralan Desternat. We normally live at the City of the Gods, but we came here for the Tournament. Kida's a widow, she was married of Martin of Stone Mountain, so she and her four children live here all the time. Uncle Aron's married too, to Aunt Yulie, er, Yalanna. They have two children, and all of them live at the Keep."

"Full place," Kel commented.

"Especially in the morning. The girls tie up the washbasins for hours, and they giggle _all the time._" Nadin looked at her suspiciously. "Do you giggle?"

"Only when I'm very tired. Remember, I trained under your grandfather."

"He would have beaten any page that giggled," Nadin agreed. "That's what Uncle Aron says, anyway. He was a page while Grandpa was training master. Derrim - he's my cousin, Kel's brother - just missed. He started just a little over a year after Grandpa quit. Why did he resign, anyway?"

"He felt responsible for Joren and Vinson's deaths in the Chamber of the Ordeal. He believed his teaching had caused them to fail."

"That sounds like Grandpa. He blames himself for everything. I think he thinks Stormwings exist because one of our ancestors dreamed them up." Kel covered a smile. "Sarah, the Lady Knight and her servant need quarters, Grandpa's orders," the boy told the servant mistress, a woman of about forty with blue eyes and salt-and-pepper hair.

"And gods forbid we disobey my lord's commands," Sarah said fondly, sending the boy away. "You're Keladry of Mindelan?"

"Yes, ma'am," Kel said politely.

"Your bags will be sent to your quarters shortly, and I'll see your servant is lodged in the servant's wing. Follow me." Kel didn't protest. Tobe was nearly eleven; it was time for him to learn to sleep alone. Sarah led her through a maze of stone corridors, then stopped before a large oak door. Kel was handed a brass key. Sarah opened the door, and Kel stepped into the largest guest-room she'd ever seen. It was easily the size of a master suite. The main door opened into a small study, which branched into a set of double doors on the right and a small library on the left. Sarah led Kel through the doors to the bedroom, which had two clothes presses, a chest of drawers, night stands, and a bed easily large enough for three. Expansive floor-rugs covered the stone floor, and some furs were thrown across the bed. On the right side of the room was a door that led to a bathing alcove outfitted with tub, counter, washbasin and a mirror. There were small shelves for toiletries. The entire suite was richly done in white and various shades of blue.

"I can't stay here," Kel said in awe.

"Of course you can. Your bags will come soon, use the left clothes press to store your clothing. Dinner will be at seven in the main dining hall. I'll send Kel to show you the way - it will make her year. Good day, Lady," Sarah said and departed. Kel turned slowly on one heel, taking in the room. _If this is a guest room, what must the master suite be like?_ Kel wondered. She had known Cavall was currently the third richest fiefdom in Tortall, second only to Conté and Olau, but she had not been prepared for this. A soft knock at the door startled Kel. It was a servant with her possessions. Kel spent the next two hours unpacking and cleaning her weapons. Tobe arrived in at the end of the first hour, and registered his amazement with Kel's new living arrangements. He also registered his displeasure at being roomed away from her.

"You'll be a young man soon, Tobe. You're almost eleven. In two years you'll be too old to continue sharing a room with me, people will talk. It would be best for you to start adjusting now," Kel said firmly.

"Let them talk," Tobe insisted. Kel frowned.

"That only goes so far, Tobe, you know that. You stay in the servant's wing. How is your room?"

"Well, I've got it to myself, and it's nice. Nothing this fancy, but nice. My Lord of Cavall treats his servants well. Most of them only have to share with one person, and they all eat well, get healers when they need it, and they aren't beaten at all. Ol' Quinden should take notes."

"Many nobles should take notes," Kel said, motioning to the bed and handing Tobe a gauntlet. Together they finished cleaning, then set out to explore the Keep. They were soon joined by Kel of Cavall, whom Kel dubbed "Little Kel," much to the girl's delight. Kel asked Little Kel to serve as a guide, provoking more ecstasy. Kel was a embarrassed by the adoration, but couldn't fault the child for it. When Kel was the girl's age, she would have reacted the same if Alanna the Lioness had asked for a guided tour of Mindelan. Being held in equal esteem as the Lioness also embarrassed the Lady Knight.

At six thirty, Kel returned to her rooms to change into a fawn dress, then made her way to the dining hall. Wyldon was already there at the head of the table, speaking to Stevan, who sat on his lord's left. At Wyldon's right sat Mirelle, and on her right was an empty seat for Kel. She sat, and received a friendly welcome from the Lady of Cavall. At Mirelle's throat was a ruby necklace exactly like the one Kel had admired in the shop window. _He must have purchased it for her while I wasn't looking. That's sweet._

"That's a beautiful necklace," Kel said.

"Thank you. Tom gave it to me," Mirelle said with a sidelong glance at her husband. The emotion his wife's words aroused flickered across his features too quickly for Kel to identify positively, but she knew it wasn't good. "He's the handsome one, there," Mirelle said, pointing. She waved to the man, who was tall and indeed handsome. He looked to be around thirty, with thick black hair and sky-blue eyes. Kel's hazel eyes widened in surprise. _I wonder if she knows she's giving the impression she's having an affair with this Tom._

"Not in front of my subordinate, my wife," Wyldon ordered cryptically.

"She might as well know what she's getting into with you," Mirelle said airily. "Besides, she'll be here for months, and I'm not postponing my fun that long." Again Wyldon's face flickered inscrutably. Kel looked from knight to wife, thoroughly confused. Wyldon returned to conversation with Stevan as if what had occurred was completely normal, and Mirelle turned her attention back to Kel.

"So what do you think of Cavall?"

"It reminds me of home, only a bit warmer. Do you have many Bazhir visit?"

"During Roald's reign we had a few war raids on our southern border, but they were rare. We do have quite a few traders come to ply their wares. A few have even settled down. What of Mindelan?"

"Since the treaty was signed, we have a lot of Yamani traders and Scanran wolf-ships. I wouldn't really know, I haven't been home since the war started." Mirelle responded to that observation by backhanding her husband's arm. The crack of the blow made Kel wince inwardly.

"You couldn't tolerate her absence for a few weeks to give her leave?" Mirelle demanded. Wyldon sighed.

"A knight's life is spent abroad, my wife. Mindelan knew that when she decided to become a page."

"I did, really," Kel said. "I'm flattered you're concerned, but it's nothing."

"Your commander should have been sensitive to your need for roots and sent you home sometime in what, three years?"

"I was needed."

"I'm certain you were," Mirelle said, but her tone didn't match her words. Kel frowned. It felt like Mirelle was only saying half of what she meant, yet Kel was expected to understand fully. "I really don't know why you don't transfer. I certainly wouldn't want to serve beneath my husband."

"Many of the Rider women feel the same way, or so I hear," Kel commented, edging the conversation toward more neutral territory. "I wonder how the first lady knight to marry a knight will handle the situation."

"Not 'how I'll handle the situation?'" Mirelle asked coyly.

"No," Kel said, blushing. "I don't have any plans to marry."

"Very smart," Mirelle said approvingly. "Though I personally think bald men are very unattractive." Kel's eyes went wide in surprise. "But of course you disagree."

"My lord is sitting right there," she said.

"He's not paying attention."

"I trained beneath him. Believe me, Lady Mirelle, he hears every word you say," Kel said. _She's been married to him for at least thirty years and she doesn't know how keen his hearing is?_

"Hearing like a dog's," Mirelle agreed, but Kel wasn't certain it was a compliment.

This bizarre half-speaking continued for the rest of the meal as Mirelle discussed both the Keep, politics, and her very progressive opinions. At one point she goaded her husband with the same coy "but of course you disagree" she'd given to Kel earlier.

"While I can see the benefits of a common class able to read - more effective signs for one - and women capable of defending their honor, I still maintain most women do not have the strength of will and discipline needed to become effective warriors. Nor does the elimination of noble privilege and the hell-on-one's-heels change currently employed sound even remotely desirable," Wyldon said stiffly.

"Did you just admit benefits to change?" Mirelle laughed, part humor and part something Kel didn't like. "You? Flexible? You've changed him quite a bit, Lady Keladry." Kel stammered a reply, and was utterly grateful when Wyldon's daughter Kida kidnapped her to meet the rest of the family.

Kel managed to free herself shortly before midnight. Tired from travel and up very much past her bedtime, Kel plodded to her rooms. She took off her dress, petticoat, and shoes, decided her nightshirt was too much effort, and collapsed into bed. Kel fell asleep the instant she was horizontal. It seemed to her she'd only closed her eyes when odd sounds awoke her. Groggily, Kel analyzed the sounds and froze. Someone - male, from the sound of the footsteps - had walked into her bedroom. Kel tensed for battle as a heavy weight collapsed into the bed next to her. Adrenaline evaporated her exhaustion. Kel attacked the intruder, initiating a brief, fierce scuffle. Kel, clad only in underclothing, found herself pinned beneath the half-naked intruder at the fight's end.

"Who in Mithros' name are you?" a cold, deep voice demanded from the dark.

"My lord?" Kel asked, utterly shocked. "What're you doing in my room?"

"_Your_ room?" Wyldon demanded, releasing Kel.

"Sarah said these were my quarters," Kel explained sheepishly, her face hot even though she knew he couldn't see her. Kel heard Wyldon moving around, most likely collecting his boots and shirt. She decided that was an excellent use of time and began her own search.

"Sarah must have... forgotten these were my rooms. Sleep here, Mindelan, I'll talk to Sarah about moving you in the morning," Wyldon said calmly. Kel felt a rush of air on her cheek as Wyldon apparently ripped the coverlet off the bed.

"I can't take your bed," Kel said.

"It's only for a night. I have another place to sleep, you don't." Kel opened her mouth to protest, but shut it when Wyldon snapped, "just do it, Mindelan," in a tone that promised dire consequences for disobedience. "And for future reference, when you're outmaneuvered by an opponent at night, in your bed, in a castle with guards everywhere - scream your head off," Wyldon said in parting. After his departure, Kel tried to obey the order to sleep, but she couldn't so much as doze in her commander's bunk. An hour of tossing and turning later, Kel followed Wyldon's lead and tore off a blanket. She made herself a nest from it on the floor and slept in that.

Even then she didn't sleep well. _His servants forgot which suite was the master suite?_ Kel wondered, adjusting the blanket. _It doesn't make sense. And why doesn't he sleep with his wife? Or is that what he meant by another place to sleep? If his servants didn't forget, which is highly unlikely, then why would they put me in his room? They could have destroyed his reputation, and mine._ Kel rubbed her eyes. There weren't any answers. Only one thing was certain - Wyldon's family was not the bastion of tradition Kel had expected.


	4. Fief Cavall

**Part Four**

Fief Cavall

The next morning began early with a cold breakfast in Wyldon's office. The office was located in the north tower, two rooms beneath the sentries' platform. There were two arrow slits on the far wall that provided light and a fair view of the town. Inside were two sets of bookshelves, a desk, and a map table. The office was as orderly as Kel expected, though the desk was piled high with royal missives.

"Those are papers detailing tournament procedures, what supplies the Crown will give, and lists of competitors' names," Wyldon said coolly. "Late registers will arrive in one or two weeks. That sack by your foot contains the registration fees and what money the Crown provides. We'll probably spend about two or three times that."

"Cavall makes up the difference?" Kel asked. Wyldon nodded.

The rest of the day was spent reading those missives and mapping where the latrines, campgrounds, and competition stands would be. Kel's primary task was logistics - King Jonathan had estimated a group equal to the population of Corus would descend on Cavall in a little over a month. When the sun set, most of the paper work had been completed. Kel welcomed the long walk to the dining hall as a chance to stretch muscles unused to sitting at a desk for hours on end.

"Does your family always eat this late?" Kel asked.

"Only during the harvest, when there's work until sunset and sometimes after, and in the summer, when it's too hot for anyone to enjoy their meal until eight o'clock," Wyldon said. Kel nodded.

"Do you have many problems with Immortals?" Kel asked, looking up as a winged horse flew over.

"Not really. We have a herd of winged horses and a herd of unicorns living here, they give us no trouble beyond occasionally eating someone's garden. There is a herd of centaurs in southern Cavall that's had some trouble keeping its young stallions in check. Most of the spidrens have been killed, and the Stormwing population has moved north. Our main concern is the merfolk population in the Golden Lake. They're getting too big for that lake, so some of them want to settle in the Rippled Moon Lake ten miles southeast of here. The villages on Rippled Moon that depend on the fish in that lake - they won't be able to compete if the merfolk obtain royal permission to settle there."

"You've told the King this, haven't you?"

"I and every other noble adjacent to Goldenlake lands. The merfolk husband fish as we do cattle, so humans can only catch those fish the merfolk don't want. That isn't enough. Four villages on Golden Lake have been virtually abandoned because of the merfolk," Wyldon said. "No lord wants that to happen to _his_ vassals."

"Can't the humans pen and care for the fish as the merfolk do, so the population won't be fished out?" Kel asked. Wyldon shook his head.

"Those villages are used to drawing on the entire fish population of the lake. They would catch about half and leave the other half to breed. They can't subsist on a quarter of the fish in the lake. And even if they could get by for the three years it would take to build the surviving quarter up to count they're used to, there are only so many fish the lake can support." Wyldon looked at Kel, his brown eyes troubled. "Nor will the peasantry take kindly to buying fish from the merfolk they used to catch for free."

"Isn't there an uninhabited lake they could use?"

"The merfolk like human jewels, and they've developed a taste for cinnamon, citrus, and ale. They want to be able to trade," Wyldon said.

"The traders will come to them. Merpeople's jewelry, hair, and rust-proofing sell for high prices in Corus, more than enough to make hiking through the backwoods profitable," Kel said. Wyldon nodded, thinking.

"There is a nameless lake a few miles east of Rippled Moon. It's smaller, but there are fish in it. There is a village nearby, but they're not dependent on the lake," Wyldon mused. "I'll propose the idea to His Majesty when he arrives. The merchants will scream bloody murder, of course, but who cares about them?" Kel covered her mouth to hide a smile of amusement.

"Not fond of merchants, my lord?" she asked wryly.

"Some of them are a good sort, but the ones that deal in Immortal goods… some of them can be pretty dodgy." Wyldon looked down at Kel, his eyes glittering with amusement. "I spent my first two years as a knight guarding trade caravans. At one point, the caravan leader wanted to cut across the Great Southern Desert. Raoul and I told him that we'd be heading right through hostile territory, but the leader didn't listen. He said shaving the extra time off the trip would cut his costs by 20 and thus increase his profits. He ended up losing two wagons completely, the rest barely escaped. The resulting injuries laid me up for a week and a half." Wyldon shook his head. "It was the same with almost every caravan I worked with - I'd warn them of danger, they'd spout off about profits and cutting costs and ignore my advice, and we'd be attacked just as I said. After my comrades and I saved their lives, we'd be blamed for any property loss. I was so happy to be transferred off caravan duty I burned incense at every temple to Mithros on my way to my next assignment."

"They sound like Idrius Valestone," Kel commented.

"You did say he was a fur merchant, didn't you?" Wyldon asked. Kel nodded. "There's all the explanation you need." Kel was grinning at the joke when they entered the dining hall. They separated to go to their seats. Kel sat between Mirelle and Ferhan, Wyldon's second son.

She spent most of the meal talking with Ferhan, who was a brilliant mage and the single most scatterbrained person Kel had ever met. While discussing the magic behind the Scanran killing devices he unintentionally tried to eat his soup with a fork. And while describing the auxiliary eating habits of a colddrake he spread butter on his pasta and poured sauce on his bread. Kel was both amused by his antics and fascinated by the detailed information he imparted. Kel imagined that he'd be a master soon, if he didn't die in an accident of his own making.

During dessert Mirelle took over the conversation, asking Kel about the challenges of running a refugee camp as a female knight. Kel talked politely but guardedly, not wishing to provoke Mirelle into reprimanding her husband as she had the night before. Nevertheless, Kel noticed that when Wyldon covered his wife's hand, Mirelle jerked her hand away then wiped it with a napkin. It worried Kel - surely the lady couldn't still be angry. Or did she think Wyldon had put Sarah up to placing Kel in his room? If so, she wouldn't be the first colleague's overly-jealous wife Kel had dealt with. However, jealousy didn't explain Mirelle's enigmatic comment when Kel first arrived, nor Mirelle's odd behavior the night before. _She's confusing and flirtatious,_ Kel wondered, remembering Tom, _two qualities my lord most despises in women. Why in the name of the Goddess did he marry her?_

Kel's reverie was interrupted by Mirelle offering to take Kel to her new guest quarters. It was an honor Kel could not in courtesy refused, though she wasn't certain she wanted to spend any more time in her company. To Kel's relief, Mirelle kept to polite talk during the walk. Kel's new quarters were very nice, and more like what she had expected. The main door opened into a large room appointed with a table and chairs, a book shelf, and in the corner was her bed and armoire. To the left was a smaller door that led to a dressing room and bath. Across from the door was a shuttered window that looked down into a small courtyard with roses and benches in it. The rooms' decor was in green and burgundy like the roses below. The lady knight's belongings had already been moved and unpacked. Kel rearranged a few things before cleaning her teeth and turning in.

After twenty minutes of staring at the ceiling, Kel admitted defeat. She was tired, it was time to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes thoughts filled her brain. With a sigh, Kel got up and took her practice glaive from its corner. Her body was used to physical activity, perhaps the sedentary day had left her with excess energy that was disrupting her sleep. She began the most complex pattern-dance she knew, starting slow and speeding up until her glaive was a blur. When that dance finished she did another, then practiced Shang blocks, punches, and rolls until she was breathing heavily and soaked in sweat. Kel stretched to cool her muscles. She used the wash basin in her small dressing-room to clean away the sweat and set her sweat-soaked nightshirt out to dry. A knock at the door startled her. Kel hastily pulled on her other nightshirt.

"Yes?" Kel asked, wondering who would visit her this late. Her guest was Wyldon, clad in a nightshirt and breeches. He didn't look happy.

"What are you doing?" Wyldon demanded.

"Exercising," Kel said hesitantly.

"At midnight? For an hour?"

"I couldn't sleep," Kel said, blushing. "If I may ask, why do you- I mean, how do you know?"

"My room is beneath yours. The floors don't have soundproof spells."

"Oh," Kel said sheepishly. "I'm sorry, my lord, I didn't mean to wake you." Wyldon grunted, then rubbed his face with his hands.

"What does exercising have to do with insomnia?" he asked.

"I thought since I hadn't done much physical activity today, I had extra energy to burn that was keeping me awake. I thought that by exercising, I could use up that energy and fall asleep."

"Did it work?"

"I don't think so," Kel said. Her body was tired, but her mind was still restless.

"May I come in?" Wyldon asked. Kel nodded and belatedly stepped aside. Wyldon entered and gestured to the table. "Turn the chair around and sit in it backwards, straddling the back." Kel did so, not knowing what he was planning. When Wyldon's hands touched her shoulders, Kel stiffened. "Hush," Wyldon commanded, rubbing the tense muscles in slow circles. She quieted. Soon, her eyes closed and her head dropped. His hands were warm and comfortable, she could feel his calluses through the thin material of her nightshirt. She arched to their touch, stretching to give him more room, then tilted her head back in pleasure when the hands stopped kneading and started caressing. His fingers gently reached up to stroke the sides of her neck, and were soon replaced by soft lips. Somehow, it didn't seem abnormal, not even when he nuzzled his way up her cheek to lick her hair.

Lick her hair?

Kel woke up with a groan to wet, smelly dog kisses. Her neck and cheek were covered in dog slime. Kel gently shoved the animal aside and rolled out of bed. The dog in question was a young wolfhound who happily stole Kel's place in the bed.

"What's your name, hm?" Kel asked softly, disturbed by her dream. The dog wagged its tail. Kel pulled on her breeches, and the wolfhound vacated the bed to beg affection from Kel, who granted it. The details of the dream the wolfhound's licks had provoked were already fading, leaving a vague unrest. Kel pushed the feeling from her mind, drowning it in canine affection.

The wolfhound, a female, followed Kel to breakfast, where it was greeted with a call of "Cossette" by Nadin.

"She's mother's favorite, so she gets to sleep inside. I hope she didn't disturb you," the boy said courteously.

"No, not at all," Kel said as Cossette abandoned Kel in favor of the children.

"Completely undisciplined," Wyldon's voice commented behind her. Kel turned to greet him as Wyldon continued, "that dog has some of the finest blood in Cavall in her veins, yet despite all my training she's useless for hunting. Mirelle has spoiled her, she's little more than a pet, now."

"I thought your wife helped train the dogs?"

"She helps train the sheepdogs and the wardogs, not the hunting dogs. She thinks they're 'cute.' Once a dog knows you think it's cute, it will walk all over you."

"I'll remember that, my lord," Kel said, pausing to look for a seat. She decided she didn't want to talk with Mirelle, she looked like she was up to something. Kel chose a seat farther down the table between Little Kel and Wolor, Kida's youngest child. He was only a year younger than Little Kel, and wanted to become a blacksmith.

"An' I'm the littlest, which means Derrim, he's the oldest, will inherit everything when he becomes of age here in six years after he's done training to be a knight," Wolor said with typical childish enthusiasm. "Which means I'll be able to work for a living." He paused. "Not to say you an' Grandpa don't work."

"I understood," Kel said, chuckling. "That's an unusual ambition, but you'll always have work, especially if you work with the Riders or the Own."

"Own what?" another child asked.

"The King's Own, dummy," said the girl who'd first greeted Wyldon when he had first arrived in the castle. Her light brown hair was in blue ribbons that matched her skirt. She was introduced by Little Kel as Para.

"It's s'posed to be Sara, but the healer spelled it wrong," Para explained crossly.

"That happens," Kel said soothingly. "I know a Frank Willow who was supposed to be named Tranquilo: Frank Willow of haMinch. He has a hard time convincing people he's a noble, with such a common name." The children all laughed. Kel spent the rest of her breakfast telling various stories of her training and knighthood. The children were a wonderful audience, gasping and laughing in all the right spots. Kel regretted it when she had to leave them to get to work.

Compared with the paperwork of the previous day, clearing rocks from the camping and the competition areas was a relief. Wyldon and Kel did not labor alone - Wyldon saw fit to hire the castle and village children to collect the rocks, then he and Kel built the fire pits. At noon the crowd stopped for lunch, which ended up a picnic for most of the village and castle. It was a beautiful, cloudless sky, too good to let pass. Around two the crowd returned to clearing rocks. By twilight mere pebbles remained in the grass. Only those nobles hopelessly soft-skinned would have difficulties sleeping.

Kel went to her rooms and washed her hands, then took her sword down to the practice grounds, where many of the off-duty guards and provost's men already were.

"Hey, the kitchen's that way, little lady," one of the provost's men remarked, to the amusement of his colleagues. Kel ignored him, striking the ready pose and beginning her first drill.

"This ain't woman's work, missy. Just because you can lift a sword doesn't mean you're worthy to practice here with us," the man continued. Kel sniffed delicately, and smelled alcohol in the air. "I'm talking to you," the provost-man said belligerently, reaching for Kel's shoulder. Kel pivoted, grabbed his wrist and flipped him over her hip. The drunk man landed hard, and Kel stepped away.

"Please don't do that again," Kel asked politely.

"Wench!" he growled, jumping to his feet, "I'll teach you!"

"Whoa, Boromir," one of his friends said. "That's Yamani fighting." The new man motioned for two others to grab the drunk. "I'm sorry, milady knight," he said to Kel. "Boromir's had too much ale tonight; he meant no insult. I'm sure if he was sober he wouldn't have said anything about your skills or your virtue, lady."

"It's all right," Kel said. "Just see he's taken home." The man nodded, and the two others took Boromir away.

"My name's Vesperian," the new man said. He offered his hand to shake, realized he should bow, and tried to do both. Kel caught him when he stumbled. "Everybody calls me Perry, though."

"Nice to meet you, Parry. I'm Kel."

"We all know who you are, Lady," another guard said. The other men clustered surreptitiously, curious.

"I'd be honored to practice with you, if you need a sparrin' partner," Perry said, beating four other men to the question. Kel blushed at being the center of so much attention, but accepted Perry's offer. She practiced more than she had intended, many of the guardsmen felt the need to polish their skills against Kel. Wyldon showed up shortly after Kel did, also with a sword. Kel practiced for a little over an hour before she was interrupted by Mirelle.

"Your swordsman-ship is very good, as good as Wyldon's was at that age," Mirelle said. Kel thanked her for the compliment. "Brains, brawn, and manners - everything Wyldon wants in a woman," Mirelle continued. Kel blushed furiously, all too aware of Wyldon's presence three feet to her left. "It's true, he thinks you're very pretty. He prefers tall, solid women." Mirelle patted her slim waist lightly, then turned and announced that dinner would be served shortly.

"I apologize," Wyldon said softly once Mirelle was out of earshot. "Mirelle's humor is… rather cruel."

"I'd noticed," Kel murmured. Still, Mirelle hadn't sounded like she was joking, no more than "thank you for keeping my husband busy" had sounded like a joke. On the other hand, why would anyone tell her husband's colleague he thought she was pretty, especially when it wasn't true? And it couldn't be true… could it? _Of course not,_ Kel told herself. _He's married. He can't think me pretty._ Resolved, Kel walked into the dining hall and took her seat, this time between Wyldon and Kida. The smell of roast chicken filled the air.

"Did you have a good day?" Kida asked. Kel responded with an affirmative. "Kel told me that you told the children stories at breakfast. If she and the other children are bothering you, I can tell them to give you some space," Kida offered.

"No, thank you," Kel said. "I like children, and all of yours are very polite." Kida took this as a great compliment.

"Are you planning on having children of your own?"

"Someday," Kel said, "when things calm down."

"You could be waiting a while," Kida commented. "Father hasn't stopped moving since the Immortals War." Kel nodded. Two handles thrust themselves at the corners of her vision. Kel turned, to find Mirelle offering her the knife and meat fork. Kel took them, confused. She looked around. Mirelle had served everyone at the table but Kel and Wyldon, then handed the utensils to Kel. The implication was that Kel was to serve Wyldon, as though Kel had any claim to an favor that was Mirelle's alone. Kel blushed furiously and shoved the utensils at Wyldon, deeply embarrassed. Wyldon served himself, then set the fork and knife on the tray, where Kel could reach them if she desired. Kel filled her plate and ate mechanically, trying hard to keep her face impassive. _I am stone,_ Kel repeated to herself. _I am stone. It was a prank. She as good as told everyone in the hall I was Wyldon's lover, but it was just a prank. I am stone._ It took Kel a full ten minutes to calm herself.

After dinner, Kel sought Mirelle out. She found her in her room, embroidering a tablecloth. Kel knocked, and was commanded to enter. Mirelle's rooms were as grand as Wyldon's, except that where he had a study Mirelle had a parlor. The room was center of the room was empty save for a throw rug with lavender hydrangea and irises. Around the rug were circled with cushioned chairs with a small table between each pair, and a small sewing couch that Mirelle sat on. There were two small chests in the far corners on the same wall as the bedroom door. The entire room was decorated in lavender and soft green, very becoming to the woman within.

"Could I have a word with you?" Kel asked.

"Of course," Mirelle said, putting her sewing basket on the floor to make room for Kel. She motioned for the lady knight to sit. Kel sat and collected her thoughts for a few moments before speaking.

"I noticed you like playing practical jokes," Kel said respectfully. "I don't mind that, one of my sergeants at home plays them all the time. But could I ask that the subject of the jokes not be so… personal?"

"What?" Mirelle asked. _If she doesn't know she's giving the impression she's having an affair with Tom, she probably doesn't realize how embarrassing her humor is,_ Kel thought.

"Remember when you told me Lord Wyldon thought I was pretty while he was there, and when you gave me the knife tonight at dinner? Both jokes were humiliating, not funny - they made it seem like I was Wyldon's lover. All I ask is that you don't joke that that in the future, please." Mirelle's response wasn't what Kel had expected - she laughed.

"Is that what he told you?" Mirelle asked, controlling her mirth. "Those weren't jokes, Lady Knight Keladry! I was simply conveying a point to my exceedingly stubborn husband. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable."

"What point!" Kel asked, completely puzzled. She couldn't imagine any sane message Mirelle's actions could have conveyed.

"That I don't mind his philandering."

Kel couldn't imagine she'd heard that properly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I know this is something of a surprise, you're probably used to dealing with jealous wives anxious to protect their territory. I'm anything but jealous - I don't care who's bed Wyldon is in as long as it's not mine." Kel stared incredulously. "Sleep with him all you like, Keladry, it keeps him away from me." Kel fled.

"Where's the fire?" Ferhan asked when Kel rounded the corner too fast and ran into him.

"She told me to- to bed-" Kel hissed, then stopped, not certain she should continue.

"Mother told you to sleep with Father?" Ferhan guessed. Kel nodded. "Oh, don't worry about that. She isn't mad, you know. It's just a failed marriage that didn't work out. And you know you didn't, so there's nothing to worry about." Content that he had sufficiently explained things, Ferhan clapped Kel on the shoulder and walked away. He opened his book on invisibility to the chapter he'd paused on and began reading where he'd left off.

Kel went to find Tobe. By now, Tobe would know all the gossip the servants knew. He would have a logical explanation.


	5. Sagely Nuts

**Part Five**

Sagely Nuts

As it turned out, the explanation wasn't precisely logical, but it did make more sense than Ferhan's.

"What Ferhan told you was true," Tobe said after Kel had told him about the failed conversation with Mirelle. "His Lordship and Ladyship were married by King Roald to stop a feud between the Longsbridges and the Cavalls. The marriage stopped the feud, but the marriage partners never stopped feuding. The cleaning women say that Lady Mirelle picks fights with Lord Wyldon whenever he's home, and has affairs whenever he's gone."

"That's terrible! Does he know?" Kel asked.

"I dunno. If he doesn't, I wouldn't want to be the one to tell him. And because she's cheating on him, she can't imagine that he's not cheating on her." Tobe paused. "Those things you mentioned - the knife at dinner, the comments, all of them - might be 'hints,' but from what I've heard, it's more likely she's trying to provoke a reaction from Lord Wyldon. I'm sorry, Lady, you've been dragged into the middle of an absolute mess." Kel processed the latest batch of bad news.

"I hope she stops the hints, provocation, or whatever her goal is during the Tournament. If she hints that he and I are having an affair, even in jest, with all those nobles and the royal family there... He won't have a reputation left if his wife implies he's an adulterer," Kel sighed, resting her elbows on her knees and her forehead in her hands. This was a nightmare. Tobe sat down next to her on the bed and rested a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"He won't be the only one with no reputation," Tobe remarked.

"I don't have one anyway," Kel said. She sighed again and straightened. "Worrying will do no good. Lady Mirelle will stop or she won't. Thank you for the help, Tobe."

"Always, milady. Sleep well," Tobe said. He left. Kel stared out the window into the darkened courtyard in thought, then closed the shutters and went to bed. That night, Kel thanked the Goddess for her freedom to chose her mate.

Kel went to Wyldon's office the next morning with every intention of keeping silent about what she'd learned. Wyldon seemed to have other ideas.

"Did Boon tell you all the dirt?" Wyldon asked coldly as they began drawing up schedules for the judges and field monitors. The task wasn't as easy as it seemed; not all judges could competently judge all the events, and some judges were more skilled than others.

"I beg your pardon?" Kel asked, unprepared.

"It was a simple enough question."

"I... I suppose," Kel answered, uncertain. "He just told me that your marriage was arranged to stop a feud and that you two don't always get along well. It was enough to explain things some."

"What did she say to you?" Wyldon demanded, his words as blunt as his tone was glacial. "All she told me was that she had 'set you straight.' If you're upset enough to admit to gossiping, she must have said something vile." Kel looked up from her list. Though Wyldon's voice smooth, his eyes were troubled. Kel hadn't realized her disconcertion showed, nor that he would be worried by it.

"She told me that she didn't mind if," she felt her face get hot, "if you loved someone else." Wyldon's brows dipped in confusion, then raised in a demand for clarification. "Me."

Wyldon sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. "I erred. I had thought that since you were a knight, Mirelle would leave you alone as she had left Owen alone. I apologize. Ignore her words as best you can, she means you no harm. And I will see that she doesn't destroy your reputation at the Tournament - she generally behaves herself in public."

"Thank you, my lord," Kel said. "If I may ask, why does she...?"

"To get a reaction from me," Wyldon said simply. "Now finish second-round Archery." After several minutes, the silence gave way to conversation often interrupted by long pauses of concentration. They stopped at lunch for egg sandwiches, then returned to work. They finished the first two days' lists before dinner. Kel used the time to visit Peachblossom and Hoshi. When she returned to her quarters, Tobe had just finished putting her laundry away.

"Thank you, Tobe," Kel said.

"Paperwork, milady?" Tobe asked, gesturing to her ink-splotched hands. "I thought you hated it."

"I do," Kel said, "but the Keep clerks are busy making signs to keep people on the roads and tallying this year's taxes. In any case, Tournament lists must be made by the tournament director and his assistants - the rules are specific." Kel washed the ink off her hands.

"All that paperwork and you don't even get paid. You can't even compete."

"No, but I can be challenged during the Free Rounds, when I'm not working. I might win some money then. I know Lord Raoul will. And the paperwork's worth it, or it will be when the Tournament's over and a success."

"Tournament or no, being stuck with my lord in a dead-silent room can't be enjoyable. You're not going to wear that," Tobe said, interrupting himself as Kel picked her fawn dress out of the armoire.

"It's not a silent room, we talk while we work. Wyldon isn't a bear, you know. And what's wrong with a dress?"

"Lady, half the servants think you're his mistress as it is. A dress would make it worse." Kel thought about it, then put the dress away.

"It's frustrating that I can't even decide what to wear without thinking about gossips' talk. Did the Lioness ever have this problem, I wonder?"

"She married the King of Thieves, milady. She was doomed from the start. Her reputation was made one conservative's defeat at a time. And it's a really bad idea to call the Goddess's champion a slut."

"True," Kel chuckled, taking her chosen outfit into the dressing room. She changed out of her horsehair-covered clothes and headed to dinner with a feeling of apprehension. She didn't want to know what disaster Mirelle had cooked up for the night. When Kel arrived, she wished she'd pleaded sick. Mirelle had left a seat open between her and Wyldon. She was gesturing for Kel to sit in it. Kel looked for another seat in the filling room, only to see Little Kel and Nadin waving frantically at her from the children's table. They were both pointing to an open seat between them.

"My lord," Kel said, approaching him, "I don't mean to be rude, but could I eat with your grandchildren tonight?"

"Yes, by all means," Wyldon said. Kel thanked him and hastened to take the proffered seat. The children within earshot were delighted. Kel spent a very enjoyable dinner in a sea of child chatter and open curiosity. For the first time since arriving in Cavall, Kel was unhappy to see the meal end.

The evening meal had been early that night due to a mishap in the kitchen. So when Nadin offered to show her the kennels, Kel agreed. Little Kel and several of the older children tagged along. Kel wasn't particularly surprised to find Wyldon already there. The dogs - elkhounds, wolfhounds, war dogs, smaller hunting dogs, and a few lady's dogs - swirled around him inside a fenced enclosure. Rows of roofed individual kennels were also inside the enclosure. Attached was a training yard, also fenced in. With all the children at the Keep, the four-foot barrier made sense. The children pointed out all the features of the kennels from each training tool, to where the food was kept, to identifying as many individual kennels as they could. Meanwhile, the pack and Wyldon had begun roughhousing gently.

"Are the dogs friendly?" Kel asked, grinning as several of the elkhounds managed to sit on Wyldon and lick his face. Deep, delighted laughter filled the cool evening air.

"The lapdogs and the hounds are," Nadin answered, "but the mastiffs and boxers aren't. War dogs are scary."

"They like Grandpa, Grandma, and the trainers, but that's it," Little Kel elucidated. "Do you want to see the puppies?"

"Can we?"

"We're allowed to see the puppies, they're kept separated from the rest of the dogs," Little Kel said, leading the way to a smaller, board fenced building several feet away from the main fenced area. Most of the kennels were empty. The first stall was occupied with a female mastiff and six two month-old puppies. The mastiff growled warningly, and Kel walked briskly on. In the third stall was a hound and her pups. The five puppies were loud and active, crawling on and playing near their mother. Kel noticed there was a small shelf encircling the kennel about eight inches off the ground. She asked her guides what it was as one of them opened the gate and darted in. He knelt and held out his hand for the to sniff. She wagged her tail, and the boy picked up a puppy.

"It's for Tippyfeet to lean against. If she leans against back and a puppy is behind her, the puppy slides into the space beneath the shelf instead of getting squished," the boy explained, handing Kel the puppy. "This is Later. He was born last, and it took him twice as long to be born as the rest of them. Grandpa was afraid he was dead, it seemed like he was at first. But he's alive."

"If he wasn't alive, she wouldn't be holding him," another boy said contemptuously. Kel hushed him and took Later. He was marvelously soft and very cute. He bayed softly at her and then began chewing on her hair. One by one the other children slowly entered the kennel and picked up puppies, always keeping the young dogs in sight of their mother. Little Kel petted the mother instead of getting a puppy.

"So she doesn't get jealous," the girl explained.

"Maybe that's Peachblossom's problem," Kel remarked wryly, "he's jealous of the other horses."

"It's a possibility," Wyldon said suddenly from the door. He swung over the gate of the mastiff's kennel, landing slowly so as not to trample the pups. The didn't growl at him. "Though he could just be a temperamental monster. Remember to be gentle," Wyldon told the children, who nodded. Wyldon disappeared from view as he knelt in the kennel. His voice could be heard murmuring softly to the dogs inside.

"Who's the third dog?" Kel asked.

"Stardust. She's a lapdog. Her puppies look like cotton balls. Grandpa doesn't like lapdogs as much as he likes working dogs, but Grandma insists," Nadin whispered. Kel nodded. Soon they put the puppies back with their mother, who immediately began washing them. They visited Stardust, who looked like a giant cotton wad herself, and her puppies. Stardust barked at them, and none of the children tried to pick up a puppy.

The children were summoned by Kida's call, but Kel stayed a little longer to watch Tippyfeet bathe her pups. The pups' cries of discontent and repeated attempts to escape were very amusing.

"Why Tippyfeet?" Kel asked when Wyldon came to check on Tippyfeet.

"She dances when music is played. Well, she prances and howls, which is close enough for a dog," Wyldon explained. Kel stayed as Wyldon checked Stardust and her pups, and was promptly drafted to assist in feeding the dogs - all of them.

After ladling dog feed into the bowl of, and being introduced to, every dog in the kennels Kel had decided Stefan's remark during her fourth year as a page had been well-founded. Other than two runts, this was the finest collection of dogs Kel had ever seen. After the dogs ate, she and Wyldon collected the dishes and put them away. Afterward, Wyldon didn't put the dogs back in their kennels, but started adjusting a small pile of straw. He took a blanket off the fence and laid it on the straw, forming a bed.

"You don't put them in their stalls?" Kel asked. Wyldon shook his head.

"Not when I sleep out here. Normally, though, I do."

"This is your 'other place to sleep,'" Kel said, recognizing the blanket. Wyldon nodded.

"It's comfortable here, and it helps the dogs bond with me."

Kel smiled, and left him to it. The dogs laid down around and on him, ensuring warmth and comfort. As Kel shut the gate, she wished for a moment she could join them.

Kel took her time with her morning exercises the following, and was consequently the last one in the door for breakfast. Today there wasn't a seat available at the children's table, so she would have to take the seat between Wyldon and Mirelle. Kel paused and Wyldon moved over a seat, leaving the head of the table open. Technically, Kel didn't have any right to sit there, but it was better than the alternative.

"It's easier for me to move than to try and convince her to," Wyldon whispered as Kel sat down. Kel nodded.

"Thank you, sir."

Mirelle wasn't happy about her plans being disrupted.

"Please pass the porridge, Stump," she said casually after the morning prayer. Kel's eyes went wide. Where had Mirelle heard that?

"I beg your pardon?" Wyldon demanded.

"I said, 'please pass the porridge, Stump.' Has your hearing deteriorated with age?" Mirelle said sharply.

"Do not call me by that name again," Wyldon said frostily, proffering the requested dish. He shot a glare to Kel. Kel shook her head, trying to communicate that Mirelle hadn't learned Neal's epithet from her.

"Don't glare at her, she didn't tell me mum. I heard it from Little Kel. And I'll call you whatever I like, Stump."

"My lady wife, I order you to cease using that name." Kel was certain frost was going to break out on the table at any point, his voice was so cold. Mirelle had struck a nerve, and she knew it.

"I'm not a soldier, Stump. You can't order me about," Mirelle replied, noticing greedily that Wyldon's eyes were a flat ebony in anger.

"You are my wife, and I can demand you address me with respect."

"What's to respect, Stump?" Mirelle asked sharply, her words compressing Wyldon's lips into a thin white line.

"Enough. We will continue this discussion in private," Wyldon said. Kel looked away. She noticed everyone else at the table was as well, talking with each other tensely and trying to pretend nothing was happening. Kel wished Stevan wanted to talk tensely, but he was watching his lord and lady with an expression of deep concern on his face.

"I don't want to continue it later, Stump."

"Then we will continue this outside," Wyldon said, tossing his napkin on the table with such force Kel could hear it hit the table.

"I'm eating breakfast," Mirelle said, eating her first spoonful of porridge. "I don't want to interrupt it for something as inconsequential as you, Stump." Wyldon said nothing. Kel stared at her food, wishing she was elsewhere, wanting desperately to leave. If they didn't stop soon Kel would leave, good manners or no. She shouldn't be hearing this.

"What's wrong, Stump, can't think of any witty repartee? Or are you just giving me the silent treatment?" Mirelle said, the nasal tone in her voice increasing to the point her words were almost a cackle. Wyldon again kept silent. "The name suits you, you know. You're cold, loveless, unyielding, and utterly uninteresting." Again, there was no response. "If you were ever human, it was ages ago, Stump." Wyldon stood, his hands shaking. Kel had never seen him so furious. She was afraid for a moment he would lose control and strike his wife. Instead, Wyldon turned and left. Kel, whose appetite was thoroughly ruined, left as well, along with most of the smaller children and Stevan.

Wyldon didn't show up to make lists for three hours, but Kel didn't begrudge him the time to calm down.

"I'm sorry, my lord," Kel said once Wyldon sat down. "I told Little Kel and the children some stories of my page training. I didn't think it would do any harm." Wyldon waved her apology aside.

"It's not your fault. There wasn't any way for you to know Mirelle would do as she did. She was spoiling for a fight, anyway. If not for 'Stump' she would have found something else," Wyldon said wearily. Kel nodded silently.

They completed the staff lists that day, and Kel didn't go to the dining hall, saying she had a headache. She felt bad about lying, but her body soothed her conscience by producing cramps. Kel had Tobe fetch her some water and made some of the tea Lalasa had recommended to her when she had been a page. Tobe also brought Kel some leftovers. They were cold but appreciated. She and her servant spent the evening in quiet conversation. Kel felt much better when she crawled into bed that night.

That next day they finished the judge and monitor lists, then spent the afternoon plotting the camping lots with string. After that they began mapping out who would sleep where. It was the same social planning that had gone on during the Progress, both Kel and Wyldon hated it.

"Why don't we just place the most snobby nobles between the commoners and the merchants and call it a lesson in tolerance?" Wyldon suggested after the fifth time of having to start over because of a petty feud or an odd number in a group. Kel snickered as she drew up a new map.

"Amusing, but I don't think it would make the King happy."

"True. And I'd have to listen to them complain." Wyldon sighed. He looked down at the map. "If we put the competitors here in alphabetical order, no one can complain about unfairness, and they can settle their feuds in rounds. Late registers will just be camped back here in the order they arrive," he said, pointing.

In the end, they decided on a similar policy for the entire camp. The campground was marked off into sections; priests and mages, dukes and counts, barons and lords, Own and Riders, merchants, soldiers, servants, and peasants. Latecomers would take what spots they could. Kel decided they could call it a lesson in punctuality - the best spots would go to those who arrived first. They royal family would stay in the castle, as would the Lioness and Raoul. Sara had fifty fits when she realized she needed to make two guest rooms worthy of royal occupancy, ready two more for the realm's most famous heroes and their spouses, and find space in the servant's wing for the royal servants.

It wasn't the most socially acceptable arrangement, but it was the route of least frustration and most fairness. With the realm's most famous people in the castle, no one could complain about not being camped near them, nor could anyone complain about favoritism since location in each section was decided by time of arrival. They had also plotted the sections lengthwise instead of concentrically around the stands, so good and bad spots were distributed among all the sections. The peasants couldn't even complain that the nobles got all the best spots. Some people would complain anyway, but the number of complaints would be vastly reduced.

"The Mithrans will definitely like it," Wyldon said, the candlelight flickering over his handsome features. "The same rule applies for all; be on time or suffer the consequences."

"You're serious about punctuality," Kel remarked with amusement. "I don't think any of the competitors you trained will be remotely surprised by the arrangement." Wyldon grinned in satisfaction and amusement, and for once he made no bother to hide it.

"Come on, Mindelan. We've missed supper, let's get something to eat from the kitchen," Wyldon said, putting the finished map away. Now that he had mentioned it, Kel noticed how hungry she was. They walked to the kitchen in a comfortable silence. They filled their bowls from a pot of stew that was always kept on the hearth nearest the door. Wyldon took a small loaf of bread from the shelf as Kel found them glasses of cider.

"Why didn't anyone come to tell us we were late?" Kel asked.

"When I work through meals, my staff knows better than to interrupt me," Wyldon said. "There are quite a few new faces, but most of the people here have worked with me for years."

"Stevan especially?"

"His family has worked for mine for centuries. Stevan and I knew each other when we were boys, we were as inseparable as brothers."

"What book is your family in, if you've had servants for centuries?" Kel asked curiously.

"The Book of Copper," Wyldon said wryly. "That's why the conservatives liked me so much." Kel smiled, digging into the stew. It was very good, thick and filled with chunks of beef and vegetables. It disappeared quickly, the last juices sopped up with bread. Wyldon finished before she did, but waited for her. They went to the kennels and fed the dogs, Kel once again ladling dog feed into each bowl. The dogs were too well-trained to escape, but they made their dislike of being put away clear in lank tales and downcast faces. Kel and Wyldon brushed the dog hair off the best they could as they walked across the courtyard, enjoying the quiet evening.

"Enjoy the peace," Wyldon said. "Making the competition lists is the hardest part. There are very specific rules - one judge can only see each competitor once each day. No competitor can see the same person in more than one round each day. No knights from the same fief can compete against each other until the fourth day. There are always people who sign up and then circumstances change so they can't, and those who sign up to compete late. It usually takes about ten drafts to get one list correct."

"How many lists to we have to make?"

"Fifteen - one for each round of each event on the first day. The other days' lists will be drawn up the night before. If my clerks are done with the taxes when we're done with the lists, they'll do the copying. If the taxes aren't finished, though, we have to make a copy of each list for each judge."

"I can feel hand cramps in the making," Kel said wryly. Wyldon snorted.

"Then you'll write with your left hand. I'm not doing this alone." Kel had to admit she would have said the same in his position.

"How much of our budget is spent on writing supplies?" Kel asked.

"About half," Wyldon began, but stopped. Mirelle was walking across the yard arm-in-arm with a man. It was Tom, the same one that had given her the necklace. Tom had the sense to be scared; he tried to disengage Mirelle's arm as they stood in a pool of torchlight. Mirelle, on the other hand, nodded a greeting to Wyldon as if nothing was unusual. She then turned and kissed Tom goodnight, long and fully on the mouth. Kel stared in shock as Mirelle let Tom flee with a wave, then sauntered away. Kel looked at Wyldon. His face was blank, so blank Kel knew it was forced. He wasn't shocked, or even surprised - Mirelle apparently had done this before.

"If I divorce her, even on grounds," Wyldon said slowly, his voice completely devoid of pitch, "her brother will restart the fighting we were married to prevent. I can't do that to my people, the wars were hard enough on them. Or the King, who's got enough on his plate without me starting another petty squabble."

"So she can do what she likes," Kel said bitterly, "and throw it in your face."

"When she's feeling spiteful. Go to bed, Mindelan." Kel went to her quarters, but she couldn't sleep. She was too angry. It was blackmail, pure and simple. Mirelle was using Wyldon's sense of duty to keep herself from facing the consequences of breaking her wedding vow, a vow made to the gods. And if that wasn't enough, she was conspicuous about it. She had kissed her lover right in front of him when she'd known he was watching. It was sickening.

And why? To get a reaction? Kel didn't believe it. No sane person would say or do the things Mirelle did just to get a reaction. Snakes in the sock drawer, yes. Telling him the Tournament had been canceled, yes. Affairs, accusations of adultery, and saying deliberately hurtful things, often in front of his subjects? It didn't sound plausible. Not even someone completely socially inept could call those pranks.

Another possibility lay in the things Mirelle had said during breakfast. If she didn't want Wyldon, she might be trying to provoke him into divorcing her. But that was unlikely, too. She'd bore him four children, stayed with him for thirty years. And if she'd wanted free so badly, she could have just used her Goddess-given right to choose to force her brother not to interfere. And as far as arranged marriages went, Mirelle had been lucky. Wyldon was near her age, wealthy, very chivalrous, and handsome; he also had a sense of humor, though an unusual one. Even for Kel, someone several decades his junior, he would be a good "catch." What on earth could Mirelle find so distasteful she'd take such measures to be rid of him?

Kel punched her pillow. Nothing about her made sense! She was nice enough to Kel and to the servants, Tobe had told her they complained of no abuse. The children loved her. She was obviously smart enough to manage the fief while Wyldon was gone. Mirelle was pretty and charming, yet she was so mean to Wyldon it was hard to believe it was the same person. According to Tobe, she was softhearted enough to adopt stray kittens and puppies, yet she seemed to humiliate Kel deliberately. There was no logic to it!

Which, of course, was a possibility of its own. But somehow Kel doubted a madwoman would be able to manage Cavall so well in Wyldon's absence. Kel sighed. It wasn't any of her business, anyway. Wyldon hadn't come to her with his problems, she'd just been thrown in the middle by mistake. Kel highly doubted he wanted her to help. Wyldon wasn't Lalasa, he didn't _need_ her help. He was a knight of more experience and wisdom than her. He could handle himself, and his marriage, on his own.

As Wyldon had said, the competition lists were a frustrating nightmare. While it took him roughly ten drafts to get a perfect list, it took her all day to complete her first.

"You're a fast learner. It usually takes two days to complete your first list," Wyldon said. "Keep in mind this is the this is the third Tournament I've listed for."

That made Kel feel better, but she wasn't certain she liked the fact Wyldon had been able to tell she'd felt substandard.

The drudgery of the lists continued for a week, filling Kel's second week in Cavall. While Wyldon was correct in that after her first list the process became easier, his estimate of three days was three days short. Often, they'd complete four lists, a full days' work, only to find the lists would conflict with each other, or that two people with different surnames were actually from the same fief. Then they'd have to do two of the lists over.

"I wish," Kel said after the third such restart, "that there was some device that you could enter the competitors names in, press a button, and have the lists appear in your hands. Perhaps the mages could start working on that."

"If they did, losing competitors would complain the mages had somehow conspired to make them fail," Wyldon remarked in humor and asperity. Kel smiled grimly, ripped the mistaken list into pieces, and started over.

By the end of the second week, the first days' lists were complete.

"Does this get easier during the Tournament?" Kel asked, stretching as they filed the lists away.

"Yes. There are fewer competitors, and we have lists to start with. Usually, we cross out the eliminated men, then match the first person in the right column with the last person in the left column and so on. For the second round, we match the first person in the left-hand column with the second-to-last person in the right-hand column and use that pattern. Third round it's the third person in the right column with the first person on the left, for fourth round the middle person in the left list is matched against the last person on the right, for fifth round it's the third-to-last person on the left with the second-to-last on the right. Those left over are matched against each other. After competition, we cross out those that are eliminated and start over. Since each list we start from is already shuffled and the patterns are random, it's rare that anyone sees each other more than once. All we have to do is double-check to make sure the competitors aren't from the same fief."

"And it gets easier each day because more people are eliminated each day," Kel said happily. Wyldon nodded.

"You have tomorrow off. Enjoy it," Wyldon said. "The food we ordered should start arriving in two days, as will the Tournament lances. For the next two weeks we'll be storing things, arranging food distribution, and the like. Guests and competitors should start arriving the third or fourth of June."

Kel enjoyed the day off. She rose before dawn as usual and practiced her weapons, had a lazy bath, and dressed. She had breakfast with the children again, then saddled Peachblossom and worked him thoroughly. Afterward she explored the stables, seeing that Cavall's horses were as fine as its dogs. In the late afternoon, she saddled Hoshi and rode her to the town near the castle, Shady Pines.

It was a fair-sized castle town, with a bustling market and many smaller shops. Everywhere was the sound of a realm at peace. Kel used the time to buy her Midwinter gifts, knowing she might not have the opportunity later. She explored the town and bumped into Boromir, who apologized for his earlier behavior. Kel did meet quite a few conservative peasants that whispered names behind her back, but she paid them no mind. The centaurs Wyldon had spoken of had a stall in the market. Kel talked with them briefly, found them friendly, and purchased four of their arrows at a silver each for Buri and Raoul. She also picked up a few things she was running low on, like tooth cleaner and thread.

Kel returned to Cavall Keep at twilight and packed her purchases away. She used the remaining time until dinner to finish the book Neal had given her last Midwinter, Marvolo of Kennan's Essays on Knighthood. Neal thought it was very good, but Kel didn't agree with many of Marvolo's philosophies. The only fact she really did appreciate was that Marvolo was Cleon's great-grandfather.

After finishing the book, Kel reluctantly went to supper. She was tempted to plead a headache again, but she couldn't quite convince herself it was worth the lie and the possibility of having to see a healer who would realize her headache was feigned. Kel sighed as she walked down the hall. _Curse my conscience,_ Kel thought as she walked into the dining hall. _At least I'm early so I can politely chose my own seat._ Seeing who was already there, she wished she wasn't; Wyldon had just handed Mirelle a bunch of daffodils.

"I'm sorry for interrupting," Kel said, turning an about face.

"Daffodils, my favorite flower," Mirelle said, acting as if Kel wasn't there. "How sweet. If flowers could make up for your hypocrisy, insensitivity, and being a lousy husband, I'd accept them." Kel heard flowers hitting the stone floor as she walked out the door, then the sound of Mirelle' retreating footsteps. Kel counted to ten before walking back into the hall. Wyldon was picking up the flowers.

"I'll win her over eventually. At least she didn't throw them into the midden this time," Wyldon said with empty humor. Kel knelt and helped him pick up the blooms. They were beautiful. Kel patted the flowers gently, perking them up as best she could.

"I don't think she's worth them," Kel whispered, handing him the flowers she'd picked up. Wyldon scowled.

"Another word, and I'll challenge you for smearing my wife's honor." Kel apologized perfunctorily and took a seat at the filling table. She made sure to sit as far away from Mirelle as etiquette allowed. Ferhan sat on Kel's right and Kida on her left. Kel enjoyed dinner, especially watching Ferhan and Kida squabble. It was obvious they loved each other very much, but they fought like cats and dogs. It was the first normal interaction she'd seen between the Cavall adults.

Kel stayed past dessert listening to Ferhan and Kida, especially after Vaye joined in. When she found herself dozing, Kel decided it was time for bed. She said goodnight to the three siblings and headed for her quarters. Kel met Cossette on the way, and graciously allowed the wolfhound to sleep at the foot of her bed, much to the dog's delight.

As Wyldon had predicted, the Tournament supplies arrived on time. Kel was assigned inventory duty, counting and recording everything the carriers delivered. Wyldon told the porters where to store the supplies, and helped them unload, as well as checking the carpenters' work on the stands. This routine - or rather, lack thereof - continued for all of Kel's third week in Cavall. The deliveries stopped on Sunday, giving everyone a chance for rest.

On Monday the monitors and judges arrived and began setting up. They were shown were to camp and where the Tabulation Tent was, and that was all they needed. The list of the late registers arrived that week, sending Wyldon and Kel back into the office to edit the lists. After the competition lists were edited, they were given to the castle clerks for copying. While the lists were being copied Wyldon and Kel assembled Merchant's Row, a double row of stalls rented by various businesses. They collected rent and assigned stalls, as well as directing the out-of-fief merchants who arrived, like the Raven Armory. When all stalls had been assigned and paid for, the days were spent organizing the castle clerks and training them in Tournament procedure. They also had signs placed to mark each section of campground.

During those two hectic weeks, neither Wyldon nor Kel had the time to eat in the dining hall. They ate what they could when the could, usually with a quill in the other hand or while running between jobs. Kel didn't like grazing, she preferred having regular meals, but she did like avoiding Mirelle.

Thus it was that when June first arrived, Kel was almost sad to see things slow down. Wyldon paid some of his classier serfs to greet the incoming guests and direct them either to the Shady Pines inns, or to the campgrounds, and all of the organization was complete. Until the Tournament competition began, there was very little for them to do. Kel enjoyed the break.

Wyldon spent most of his spare time with his horses, dogs, grandchildren and Kel. He and Kel resumed the lessons they'd had on the road. Kel delighted in learning the new things Wyldon taught her, especially the jousting techniques she was forbidden to teach to anyone else. Wyldon, on the other hand, was managing the glaive, though he did have a tendency to use it like a halberd. In any case, Kel doubted Yuki would be able to humiliate him with an easy defeat, though there was no chance he'd win. If Mirelle had any comments about the time her husband spent with Kel, she didn't air them during meals or to Kel. As Wyldon had said, Mirelle behaved herself around the guests.

The royal family arrived on June fifth, along with the Lioness and Raoul. George greeted Wyldon by stealing his belt knife. Wyldon wasn't amused, though Alanna was.

The spectators and competitors arrived in droves after that. Kel was exceedingly happy that wasn't anything she had to deal with. As expected, the punctuality-driven sleeping arrangements drew many complaints that were duly ignored.

During the lull before the Tournament Kel, Yuki, and Shinkokami spent as much time together as they could, catching up on their years apart. To Kel's delight, they were often joined by Buri, Thayet, and Alanna. The three Tortallan women deemed in necessary to introduce Kel to some of the finer points of womanhood she'd missed during her training. When Kel pointed out they'd all had similarly untraditional child-hoods, the trio replied that there was no age-limit to enjoying being female.

"Despite what the Stump has told you, it is possible to have fun, be a girl, and be a good warrior at the same time," Alanna said.

"Please don't call Lord Wyldon that," Kel said before she could stop herself. "No disrespect intended, Lioness."

"Call me Alanna. And why not? It suits him," Alanna replied. "And it's only a nickname."

"Repectfully, ma'am, Lord Wyldon doesn't like the name. And a nickname is supposed to be a sign of affection. If I may, I don't think you have much affection for my lord," Kel said. She couldn't sit silent as Wyldon was mocked, but she didn't want to correct the Lioness, either.

"No, I don't. We are talking about the man who had you put on probation, forbid me to see you, and nearly sent you away your first year as a page, aren't we?" Alanna said, bristling.

"He allowed me to stay," Kel said. "He didn't make me repeat all four years when I went looking for Lalasa and missed the Examinations, nor did he have me executed for treason when I disobeyed his orders to rescue my people from the Scanrans."

"He let you stay because I would have ripped him to shreds if he hadn't," Alanna said passionately. "And it was the Magistrate who decided you didn't have to retake your examinations."

"As training master he could have overruled the Magistrate," Kel said calmly. "Lord Wyldon allowed me to stay because I'd met the qualifications, he told me so himself." Kel decided not to mention that Wyldon had also admitted to doing everything in his power to get rid of her.

"And you believed him?"

"Lord Wyldon does not lie," Kel said firmly.

"This is very interesting," Thayet said, taking a small bag of salted nuts from Buri. "I've never seen two more disparate views of one person before." Thayet popped a couple of nuts in her mouth. "Alanna thinks he's a stiff, humorless, dishonorable misogynist, and Kel sees him as a paragon of knightly virtue."

"I wouldn't say paragon," Kel said, turning faintly pink. "Lord Wyldon's human. But he's not a stump, either."

"His knightly skills aside, he's inflexible and he has no sense of humor," Alanna said stubbornly. "That's a stump."

"If he was inflexible he would have been killed in battle years ago, and he would have just sent me away no matter what I'd done," Kel said just as stubbornly. "And he does have a sense of humor. It's exceedingly dry and deadpanned, but there." Alanna regarded Kel skeptically.

"Why do you care so much that I call Wyldon a stump?"

"He's my lord and friend," Kel said. "You'd do the same if I called King Jonathan a swizzle-fingered silk-stocking."

"I would," Alanna said dubiously. "But I have a hard time believing Wyldon is anyone's friend." Kel forced herself to be silent for a count of ten. As much as she wanted to tell Alanna that most of Wyldon's closest conservative friends had rejected him, Kel knew Wyldon would be far from appreciative for the breach in his privacy.

"He is to me," Raoul said, walking up behind the women. "Be nice, Alanna. Most of his conservative friends have dropped him for being fair to Kel; even Burchard's stopped talking to him. You yourself haven't even talked to him outside of war meetings for over a decade."

"Burchard? After Wyldon married his eldest daughter to that ugly little twit of his?"

"Martin of Stone Mountain, Joren's oldest brother," Raoul said. "Kida liked him very much, so I wouldn't say that around her. No, Burchard's not talking to him, neither is Ansil or Esmond. His three closest friends, or so he thought." Raoul paused. "But you didn't hear it from me."

"Yes you did," Kel said, glad the discussion was over. "I'm not taking the blame for you, sir."

"Is that any way to treat your former knight-master? The man who saved you from being a desk-knight's squire?" Raoul asked with mock-indignation.

"Is gossiping behind his back any way to treat your former page-sponsor?" Kel asked with similar loftiness. "One that didn't tell Duke Gareth the Older you were the one that left frog spawn in his drawer? Lord Wyldon told me about you."

"I did not! He did that all on his own!" Raoul protested. Buri, Thayet, and Alanna snorted in disbelief. "Wyldon was very capricious as a youngster, worse than George and Nealan of Queenscove combined. He only turned serious after he was married." He paused, looking at Buri. "Not that marriage inherently ruins your life," Raoul finished.

"You're digging yourself in a hole," Thayet said sagely, eating another nut.


	6. Cavall Keep

**Part Six**

Cavall Keep

Kel sighed and smoothed her russet skirts. It was the night before competition started, just a little under an hour before the Tournament eve banquet. Kel hated banquets. _At least it's outside,_ Kel told herself. _I'll be bored, but I won't be roasting in a stuffy, perfume-laden ballroom._ Indeed, the light summer breeze promised to bear away any odors and a significant portion of the heat. _Raoul, Lady Alanna, and Buri will be there, too. We can all suffer together._ Kel double-checked her appearance one last time. Her dress was made of cotton in view of the heat, and the long sleeves were made of a thin, gauzy material. The bodice was an illusion, the entire dress was actually one piece, a fact Kel was grateful for. Every layer lost was a bit of coolness saved. The neckline was open, revealing no more than her collarbones. The full skirts helped hide Kel's brawniness, but no amount of cloth could turn Kel into a willow-wisp beauty. She had long ago accepted that as fair trade for her combat skills. Kel smoothed her short hair and opened the door.

Mirelle was in the hall.

Kel said a polite greeting to the woman, who looked Kel over appraisingly.

"Your dress is lovely," Mirelle said. "But it needs a little… something. Wait here, Lady Knight." Kel sighed again, this time in aggravation, but she waited. Mirelle returned with a slim wood box. Kel stepped back, inviting Wyldon's wife inside. Kel didn't particularly want to be in the same castle as Mirelle, let alone the same room, but she didn't want whatever bad thing Mirelle was planning to happen in the middle of the hall, either. Kel closed the door behind Cavall's lady, who removed a beautiful ruby necklace from her box.

"Your rubies?" Kel asked, but with wariness, not wonder.

"Oh, no," Mirelle said, fastening the necklace around Kel's neck. It matched the dress perfectly. "This was a necklace Wyldon tried to give me ages ago. I told him I didn't want his gifts, but he kept it in case I changed my mind. It suits you and the dress perfectly."

"But you accepted a nearly identical necklace from Tom." It was not a question.

"Well, the gift is tainted by the giver, you know."

Suddenly, Kel didn't feel sorry for Wyldon anymore. Nor did she feel particularly puzzled over Mirelle's behavior. She wasn't concerned with Wyldon's privacy, nor what he may or may not want her to know. She was angry, furious that Mirelle could be so shallow and cruel and get away with it. If any man had treated his wife the way Mirelle had treated Wyldon, he would have been taken before the Court of the Goddess and killed for his crimes. Yet because of Wyldon's gender, no one could intercede for him and force the Longsbridges to accept his leaving, no one could make Mirelle pay for what she'd done.

"That's the single most petty thing I've ever heard," Kel said. It was as if her anger was a puppeteer controlling her mouth, separate from her mind. "You had four children with him and you won't even accept a necklace? Not even flowers. You hold his arm in public, but when the doors are closed you tell him to break his vow to the gods and to the king to have an affair, then later insult him for it. You make baseless accusations on one hand and scream how worthless he is on the other. It's like you enjoy humiliating and hurting Wyldon and me as much as you possibly can!"

"I do. Not you so much as the Stump, though. I promised him that if he married me instead of my sister, I'd make his life as miserable as I could. And after a while, the means became the end. It's really quite a challenge; his skin gets thicker every year. And his eyes are only pretty when they're black with pain.

"And as for the children, that was my duty. I'm just as much a believer in duty as the Stump, whatever he's told you, Keladry. We struck a deal on our wedding night that after I'd bore him two sons, and heir and a spare as the saying goes, he'd leave me alone. If he didn't, I said I'd remove his reason for wearing a loincloth," Mirelle smirked in amusement. "It's worked out well; he has his lovers and I have mine, though at least I'm honest enough to admit it. Occasionally he'll pretend to be lonely and ask to sleep in bed with me, but that's rare anymore."

The only thing that kept Kel from killing Mirelle where she stood was her vow of chivalry. Kel's fists clenched, and when she spoke her voice was little more than a growl.

"If you hate being wed to Wyldon so much you won't even touch him, why don't you just have one of your lovers declare affection for you and then declare your preference for him. And if your brother starts a fight, take him before the Court of the Goddess."

"Nobles can do that?" Mirelle asked. Her eyes lit up. As much fun as tormenting the Stump was, being free of him forever would be a much preferred.

"I don't see why not," Kel snarled.

"Then that's what I'll do," Mirelle said decisively, closing the necklace's case with a snap. Mirelle left the case on a small table as she left. Kel fingered the necklace, and in her anger decided against taking it off. If that horrid woman was stupid enough to throw away something so valuable, Kel didn't feel the need to let it pass by.

Wyldon outwardly took Kel's new necklace in stride. When Mirelle had asked for the rubies, Wyldon had thought, for a few brief, shining moments that keeping the necklace had been justified. Now, seeing the necklace on Kel, he suffered a deep but not unexpected disappointment. Seeing that feeling flit through Wyldon's eyes, Kel suddenly wondered if she shouldn't have taken the jewelry off. She started to reach for the clasp, but Wyldon stopped her with a look and a murmured, "keep it. I have no use for it, you do."

Kel wore it proudly through the banquet, and stowed it carefully among her possessions that night.

It was only when Kel practiced weapons the next morning that the full implication of her actions the night before became painfully clear.

She had destroyed Wyldon's marriage. She had provoked his wife into leaving him and worn a gift she had had no right to receive. She had--

"--saved him from his own stubbornness," a voice said. Kel's shoulders twitched in surprise. She looked away from the vines she'd been staring at and looked at the source of the sound. The voice belonged to Stevan. "And the fact he let you keep that token shows that he's giving up on hope. You've only sped up an already existing process."

"It's a process that shouldn't have been sped, that shouldn't have existed," Kel said. "I'm my lord's subordinate, I have no right to interfere with his marriage."

"No, as a subordinate you don't," Stevan said. "Wyldon and I have known each other since we were children, and a major portion of my job involves being able to read and predict people. So with that expertness I tell you that as my lord's friend -- and there is no doubt that you are his friend – you do have cause to interfere, especially when my lord is unable to act." Stevan sat down on a bench and patted the seat next to him. Kel sat. "Besides, you haven't said anything that Lord Raoul hasn't said already to Wyldon's face. You just said it to his wife."

"I destroyed his marriage."

"There wasn't a marriage there to begin with, only a trap! Marriage is a contract, a give and take that spans your life. Mirelle doesn't give, Wyldon does that. Mirelle doesn't take, either – she just destroys. And now you've given my lord a way out that won't cause his people to suffer or His Majesty any headache. Granted he won't like it, but he'll heal. He'll have a chance to heal without new wounds being made out of old scars, too." Kel looked at Stevan, stubbornly determined that she had done wrong. "Just think about it, all right?" With that Stevan stood and returned to his duties.

Kel did think as much as time allowed. However, after breakfast were the opening ceremonies. After that competition began, and the chaos of the Tabulation Tend enveloped Kel. The first round went without a hitch, but second round started with two rules infractions that resulted in disqualification. At the end of the round, one archery judge didn't bring his score sheet back to the Tabulation Tent. Kel found him at one of the ale tents, retrieved the sheet, and returned to copy the results down onto the master list. Third-round, an archery judge had given two archers the same score. Kel then had to find that judge and double-check that he hadn't made a mistake. Also during that round a man was disqualified for spelling his opponent for bad aim, which Kel didn't mind - Archery didn't require re-pairing. Fourth round involved so may rules infractions that Kel was left in charge of the tabulation. Seeing an opportunity, one swordplay competitor tried to convince Kel that his opponent's use of a dagger instead of a shield was cheating. Kel brushed him off with a cool, "you are mistaken, sir." The man then got belligerent, even charging into the Tabulation Tent to continue the argument. Kel took great pleasure in declaring him disqualified, even though it meant more work. Fifth round's only problem was a man who broke his leg trying to steal Peachblossom. After competition ended, Kel and Wyldon tallied the results and made out the pairing sheets for the next day's rounds. They finished well after dark, ate a quick, cold meal, and toppled into bed.

The next morning they rose early, ate in the kitchen, and double-checked that day's pairings. First round jousting started with a tie, which was illegal. Kel found the judge, who refused to declare a winner. Tobe saved Kel the frustration of having to declare a re-do of the match by informing her that the first competitor, Raoul, had unhorsed his opponent, but the conservative judge was refusing to admit it. Kel gave Raoul the win. Second round archery was christened by a raving lunatic who ran in front of the targets screaming, "war is immoral! We must have peace!" Kel shooed him away and ended the round by foiling a plot to disqualify the Lioness. A missing matrix sheet began third round. Kel found it - one of the judges had mistakenly used it as a scoring sheet. The king himself interrupted fourth round by touring the Tabulation Tent. He curiously poked at everything, scared the staff, and generally got in the way. Fifth round ended with a fire in the temporary stables for the competitors' mounts. Fortunately, there wasn't enough damage to stall the Tournament. The day ended by tallying the results, a cold dinner, and collapsing into bed. Kel wasn't sure if she preferred her job as runner or Wyldon's job as referee and mastermind.

The third day's first round was marred by the poisoning of one competitor by the other. The victim was sent home and the perpetrator was disqualified and fined for deliberately making another noble ill. Second round Kel noticed that Raoul placed last, while Ansil placed first. Knowing that Ansil couldn't hit the broad side of a barn at midday, Kel tracked down the judge, who had mistakenly awarded the scores backward. Third round Kel disqualified a man for using a mirror on his shield to blind his opponent. Kel was grateful that the third day was only a three-round day - she wasn't certain she could handle another two rounds. Nevertheless, she wasn't free. The extra time was used to eliminate competitors down to the final 80 who would compete the fourth day. It was slow going, involving a lot of comparing numbers, opponents, and in many cases a coin toss.

As they reached the halfway point of Archery, the first event they'd tallied, Wyldon was challenged to a joust. Kel had wanted to kill the messenger and the challenger - she couldn't do eliminations without the Tournament director there, and a joust would mean a loss of forty-five minutes if things went well and a delay of several hours if things went badly. Wyldon compromised by having the monitors place him last on the list and telling his opponent that he would joust after elimination was complete.

They completed the elimination by midnight, and Wyldon jousted by bonfire. Wyldon didn't feel particularly inclined to generosity and sent the man flying on the first pass. His challenger, Burchard, had been foolish enough to joust a cranky Wyldon without wearing armor, so Kel did him the favor of fetching the healers on her way to bed.

The fourth day dawned too early for Kel's taste. Several competitors changed the names on the lists, trying to make it in, and failed. Peachblossom crippled a competitor's mount second round, so Kel paid for the care and Wyldon provided an alternate mount from his stables. Tobe, however, asked Peachblossom and found that the man had lied - he'd crippled his own mount in hopes of gaining use of a Cavall horse. The Wildmage confirmed Tobe's report, Kel's money was returned to her, and the competitor was disqualified. During the third round the King was thrown by Raoul and broke an arm. Kel was happy a wounded monarch was the only problem.

Kel and Wyldon tabbed until six. Shortly afterward, Kel and Buri convinced Wyldon to challenge Raoul.

"He's getting too cocky," Buri explained. "It'll do him good to get dumped."

Against his better judgment, Wyldon agreed. Raoul had no choice but to take the match, and was unhorsed on the third pass. Alanna also took a go at Wyldon and lost completely. She also lost to Kel, which was more of a blow to her pride than the Lioness expected.

"You're small, light and insist on using mares," Wyldon commented as Alanna picked herself up off the ground. He would have said more, but Kel "accidentally" tripped and fell into him, forestalling comment.

As expected, Shinko asked Wyldon to a match with glaives. Wyldon was defeated, but not as soundly as Shinko expected.

"Apparently there's truth to your admiration," Yuki commented. Kel refrained from smirking with difficulty.

The final day of competition went perfectly. Kel and Wyldon tabbed for an hour and then set up the awards ceremony. The king announced the winners to the crowd and the queen placed the victory crowns on the competitors' heads. Buriri Tourakom placed first in Archery, followed by Thayet the Peerless and Lerant of Eldorne. Raoul, of course, placed first in jousting, followed by Andrew haMinch and his father, Vanget. Swordplay's gold crown was taken by Alanna the Lioness, followed by Paxton of Nond and Kel's brother Inness. The king disbanded the awards ceremony with the announcement that the closing feast and Midsummer celebration would begin at sunset.

And it was only after this announcement that Kel had both the time and energy to contemplate her words to Mirelle and Stevan's advice.


	7. Contemplation

**Part Seven**

**Contemplation**

_"Let us now rest and celebrate our victories," called the King, "We'll begin official Midsummer celebrations at sunset, with a feast provided by the Lord of Cavall. Thank you all who came to compete, and remember that losses can be turned to victories and that victors shouldn't become complacent."_

Kel thought about the Kings closingwords as she made her way through the throngs of people, waving to those she knew and congratulating those with medals and ribbons. She extracted herself from the idle conversation onemercahnt had been making over the quality of her sword.She chuckled to herself; he had thought her Raven Armory sword wasn't a top quality weapon and one of his would better suit her. _Mirelle isn't top quality_, she thought to herself, _or is_ _she? Goddess, what have I done? _It was thoughts like those that drove her to solitude of the lake. She sat down next to a boulder and sighed heavily. A sparrow fluttered over and landed on her shoulder, chirping happily.

"Cheerful little fellow, aren't you... if only my life was simpler," she mused, "I don't suppose you'd mind my chattering on, would you?" she remarked as the bird preened her hair.

"You see, my lord Wyldon is married to Mirelle, a highly dispicable woman who doesn't even love him. I think he tries to love Mirelle, but she doesn't accept it...she throws it in his face. Literally. Anyway I had a little spat with her, and told her that she should just leave him and if her brother didn't agree to her decision to take up her claim with the Goddesses temple. Would you believe that she agreed with me?" Kel frowned and ran a finger over the sparrow's speckled back.

"Now though, for the crux of it, I've destroyed Wyldon's marriage and I had no right to do so. I've probably doomed the fief and kingdom to war. Everyone is going to hate me," she moaned. The sparrow chirped and lightly pecked her ear. "Well maybe that's extreme...who knows maybe I did help him. I mean, who could possibly enjoy being with a person who constantly insults and berates you? It must have been awful to be stuck in the marriage for the better of his family and his kingdom. He never once cheated on her. I saw it with my own eyes at at tavern on the road here. She doesn't deserve him..." she paused to wipe at the tears running down her face. She couldn't fathom why she was crying or when she had started. She exhaled and rested her head on the cool boulder. The sparrow evidently satisfied that she was done, flew off into the setting sun.

Kel was roused by a warm, calloused hand rubbing her shoulder. "Mindelan . . . Mindelan. Wake up, the banquet has already begun," said the deep voice. Kel blinked and lifted her head off the rock, squinting in the darkness, she didn't remember falling asleep. ..

"My Lord? What are you doing out here?"

"Finding you. You didn't arrive at the feast and then Numair found me and told me you were here, rambling on abo-" he stopped and took his hand off her shoulder.

"Numair told you what? How? There wasn't a soul near me, just a sparrow. . . Oh. Daine?"

Wyldon nodded. "She saw you sitting alone and thougt you needed some comfort. . .she told me what you said to her."

Kel blushed, thankful for the dim light from the far off bon fire and covered moon. "I'm so sorry my Lord. . .I had no right to do-" Wyldon cut her off with his hand and shook his head.

"Please don't apologize. Stevan was right in what he said, and you were right in what you did. Mirelle has already packed her bags and spoke witth me. She plans to leave in the morning with most of the revelrers. May I?" he indicated the space beside her and settled next to herwhen she nodded.

Theysat together in a amicable silence for quite sometime, listening to the faint Midsummer music playing in the background. He finally turned and looked at her and said softly, "Thank you. . .Kel."

He stood up with a sigh and walked back towards the keep, leaving Keladry speechless. He'd never called her by her first name before. Always Mindelan. . . Slowly she got to her feet and followed Wyldon's path back, her mind elsewhere. She half-smiled as people wished her Midsummer luck and felicitations, making her way up to her room.

Once inside her room, she flopped down her bed, suddenly tired and confused. She was beginning to feel more strongly about Wyldon, either a deeper friendship or something else she couldn't. . . didn't want to admit to. In a sense, it frightened and worried her. . .he was a knight, as she was. What would she or he have to give up? Could she give things up in exchange for something else- something of different importance? Would he even reciprocate her feelings? She sighed heavily, trying to push her thoughts far away,and rolled over, eliciting a tiny yelp from Jump. "Sorry fella," she murmured and patted his head as she drifted off into a restless sleep.

* * *

**AN: Hokay, I took out the original chapter and put this one in, cause well. . . I just didn't like it. Enjoy if you will and review please! I'd love feedback. Oh and the other chapters will also be recieving "face-lifts". . .**

**Assthorn and BadBugz+** Thank you a million times over! I really appreciate the advice and I've taken out the last two chapters and plan on making a story about them in their own right, and I won't kill Wyldon off so quickly ( I'm also going back and "fixing/modifing" portions of the story because I agree with you both. (I have no idea what I was thinking when I wrote those chapters...blech...)


	8. Love after Battle

**Part Eight**

**Love after battle**

Kel awoke to the sounds of frantic trumpet calls. It was an attack signal from the sentries. Kel pulled on a pair of breeches and the nearest leather jerkin. She couldn't be bothered to grab her mail from the dressing room; she didn't think there was enough time. Rushing down the stairs she met Wyldon, dressed much as she was at the stable.

Hostlers already had horses saddled and readied for them. Kel was surprised to see that her mount was a dun mare named Sandrunner, not her trusty Peachblossom. She raised an eyebrow at the hostler as she mounted up. The hostler quickly replied, "He threw a shoe this morning, milady."

She nodded to the hostler, before nudging the mare into a gallop behind Wyldon. When they reached the edge of the forest where the skirmish was, she glanced around quickly, the odds were not good. Fifty men-at-arms plus Kel and Wyldon defended Cavall as seventy-five to one hundred Scanrans attacked. They charged into the middle of the battle together, slashing Scanrans that tried to de-horse them. Keladry thumped a man's skull with the iron-shod butt of her glaive and looked around for Wyldon; he was a few yards away, chopping of a Scanran's head. She gritted her teeth and turned the mare to ram her weapon into a man's chest. Kel twisted around to hack off a Scanran's head, when Sandrunner squealed in pain and reared, dumping the unprepared Kel from the saddle.

She hit the ground hard, hearing her arms crack as she landed on them. Pain shot up both arms; it was worse in her right arm. She cried out in pain and struggled to her feet. Two people watched, the first was a swordsman, who charged her and sliced her from left collar to the middle of her stomach. Kel looked at her split jerkin and the gushing blood for a brief second and then fell backwards in shock and pain.

The second was Wyldon, who raced over, killing the Scanran from behind. He leapt down and gathered Kel, hoisting her into the saddle with him. He was about to ride of to the keep to get her a healer when the angry roar of one hundred new men-at-arms came back from patrol. He smiled grimly and took another route to the keep, passing by the forest, where he found another limp body, that was barely hanging on. It was Little Kel. Wyldon clenched his jaw in fury and scooped her up as well. He raced towards the keep's main courtyard where he recruited several servants to help carry Keladry to the master suite and Little Kel to a room nearby. The one healer in residence, a trainee, raced up the stairs behind them.

Wyldon carefully pulled off Keladry's boots, breaches, and peeled her cut-open jerkin off to inspect her wound. It didn't look good. It appeared to be half an inch to an inch deep. Her right arm hung at an awkward angle and had started to swell up. Her light arm was better, only mild swelling. He had begun to clean the blood from around the gash, when Finlo barged in. He stormed over to Kel, running a quick eye over her. Immediately, blue fire leaked from his hands over her left arm and then the deepest parts of her wound.

Kel's eyes flicked open at a wail from behind the wall. Little Kel's nursemaid had just seen the wounded girl. Keladry brushed the healer's hand away. "Stop it. I'll live. Go heal Little Kel completely," she commanded with some false confidence. When Finlo hesitated she growled, "Now!" She knew from Wyldon that most of the realms other healers were in Carthaki, helping plague victims. Finlo left as quickly as he could.

Kel sagged against the pile of pillows behind her, sweat glistening on her forehead. Wyldon moved back to the bedside from pacing back and forth as Finlo had healed her. He placed a cool towel on her brow, as Kel slowly extended her left arm to her open chest. Seeing her, Wyldon reached for her hand, but she had already found the gash. She traced it with trembling fingers, ignoring the blood. A brief look of fear flashed over her face, not unmissed by Wyldon who grabbed her bloody hand.

"You're fine," he said gently, using a wet rag to wipe the drying blood off her fingers. Kel nodded her face mostly normal. Wyldon released her hand and cleaned the blood from around her cut, placing a healing salve on it as he wrapped her up in a length of linen bandages.

_I'm such an idiot,_ she thought to herself, _Why didn't I grab my mail?_

Kel shook her head at her folly and grimaced when Wyldon lifted up her swollen arm. He ran expert hands over it and looked grimly at Kel. "I'm going to have to set this," he remarked slowly. Kel nodded and turned her head away; she didn't want to watch. She felt Wyldon place both arms and then twist her arm. She bit back a cry, thinking, I'm strong, over and over. Wyldon put a splint on her arm, murmuring softly to Kel, as she drifted out of consciousness.

She awoke five days later, the sun shining brightly on her face. She turned away from the sun to see Wyldon dozing in the chair next to the bed, his hand clasped in hers. She looked at him carefully through half-cracked eyelids. He appeared weary; he had bags under his eyes and his shirt was rumpled. A pitcher of water and a book lay on the bedside table. Kel sat up slowly, her wounds making themselves known. She squeezed Wyldon's hand gently; he awoke almost instantly.

"Kel," he rasped and then drank some of the water,"How are feeling?"

"I've been better. Is Little Kel alright?"

Wyldon nodded and then said slowly, "Finlo is dead. He managed to heal Kel and most everyone else. He wouldn't stop; he used his entire life force to keep healing before he collapsed. He and the dead were burned at sunset last night."

Kel shook her head, her heart heavy. She knew that Wyldon would take Finlo's death personally. "I need to take a walk, "she murmured, swinging her legs out from under the covers. She stood slowly and grabbed a fresh shirt and breeches from the chest at the bottom of the bed. She growled to herself as she tried to one handily pull on her breeches and shirt. Kel had one leg in the breeches and was trying to get her left leg in; she stumbled and strong hands caught her before she fell completely. Wyldon was smiling, hidden laughter in his eyes. "I'm glad you find it funny," she sniffed, "You could help you know."

He pulled her shirt over her head, and carefully eased her right arm through the sleeve. She was able to slip her boots on by herself. Wyldon rubbed her back gently, as they left the room, to walk around the empty hallways, stopping now and then to gaze out windows. They stood in front of a larger than normal arrow slit, watching the newly started rain. Kel rested her head on his shoulder and asked quietly, "Why are you so concerned about my health?"

The arm around her back tightened and he replied, just as quietly, "If you had died, I never would have forgiven myself. I should've sent you back to put more armor on or something. I was stupid and it nearly killed you."

Kel yawned and shook her head vehemently, protesting, "No! I should have known better. I was fool-hardy. It was hardly your fault." She yawned again. Without words, they left the arrow silt and headed back to the room, where she promptly fell asleep on top of the bed. Wyldon placed a quilt over her and resumed his seat by the bed, keeping one eye on her and one eye on his book.

_Kel stood at the edge of the forest, watching the battle rage around her. She watched as Wyldon rode out, resplendent in shinning silver armor. It could have been cloth. The Scanrans attacked him from left and right; it was hopeless. Blood gushed from his many wounds, as he fell out of the saddle with a sickening crunch. Kel raced towards him, her vision blinded by tears. She knelt beside him, her hands shaking as she pulled him against her chest. "I love you," she sobbed, her salty tears washing away the blood on his face. She cried out in anguish as two men-at-arms dragged her away from Wyldon's body._

"Keladry! Calm down, shush. You're fine," murmured Wyldon, staring at her with curious eyes.

Kel took a shaky breath, tears running down her face; the dream had felt so real, she still half-thought Wyldon was dead. She gripped his hand tightly and then ran her fingers of his face and the scar over his eye, reassuring herself that he was alive and well. Wyldon pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her eyes dry, his other hand pushing the sweat and tear wet hair out of her face.

When she seemed calmer, he asked gently, "What did you dream? What made you cry out so?"

Kel shivered, the dream was bad enough once, she didn't want to remember it again, but she said anyway, "I t was the battle all over again...except I wasn't fighting. You were there battling the Scanrans...your armor was useless. The Scanrans... they," her voice caught and she swallowed back a sob,"They killed you. And I had to watch..." She turned away, tears running down her face, dripping onto her shirt. "You must think I'm such a wimp."

"You are no such thing. You are a Lady Knight and you defended Cavall and its people, until you fell. Every knight, soldier, anyone who has taken part in a battle has such dreams of losing their loved ones. Others have the misfortune of watching them happen for real and be helpless," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Kel looked at Wyldon, and gazed into his deep brown eyes. She saw a world of hidden feelings and emotions. He leaned over her and eased his mouth over hers, kissing her softly. He drew away slowly and Kel pulled him back, matching his kisses with her own. When Wyldon drew away again, he said huskily, "I love you, Keladry."

"As I love you," she replied softly, feeling limp.


	9. Cavall's Wedding

**Part Nine**

**Cavall's Wedding**

**This portion of the story is still under construction!**

Two weeks later Keladry was feeling her usual self and was frantic with plans for the upcoming wedding. The wedding was to be a small one but she was still busy making sure that the necessary rooms were cleaned and aired out and that flowers from the fief's garden were selected. Keladry had called her friend and former maid, Lalasa, now and accomplished seamstress for the Tortallan royal court, to come down for fittings for new outfits for the bride and groom. Lalasa was due the next day so Kel made sure that the room for her was clean and filled with new flowers. Kel spent the rest of the day working on her gifts for the wedding once again wishing for a finer hand at embroidery, the border on the tunic was giving her so much trouble.

Lalasa arrived bright and early the following morning, cheerful as ever, and with many yards of beautiful cloths and thread.

Kel ran out to greet her closet friend and grabbed her tightly around the waist, "Lalasa, my friend, I am so happy to see you, here let me help you take your things in," Keladry exclaimed.

"Milady, I mean Kel, you have servants for these kinds of things." Lalasa chided returning Kel's hug with equal ferocity. Kel motioned for a hostler to take Lalasa's horse and had servants carry her packs to her room. The two women walked arm in arm into the fief's main building where Wyldon greeted them.

"Mistress Lalasa, its wonderful to see you again and in such great help. I do hope that Kel didn't tackle you to the ground in her attempt to see you." Wyldon remarked as he bowed deeply to her.

"You know milady to well sir," giggled Lalasa, returning Wyldon's bow with a curtsey of her own. As she curtsey her skirts flared out revealing an intricate embroidery of flowers and vines. Kel gasped at the beautiful, detailed work on her friend's skirt.

"Lalasa, that's amazing. I'm so jealous of your talent with a needle. Maybe you could helping me with my presents with the wedding? But listen to me going on when you have eaten. Come with me, I'm sure Cook has made something warm to eat." Kel said as she motion Lalasa to follow her.

After the ladies had eaten they made their way to Kel's room. Once there they worked on Kel's gifts while discussing old times, the latest news at court, at Kel's various knightly escapades. After sometime had passed Lalasa and Kel stopped their needle work, "Kel," Lalasa asked, "if you don't mind I'll go ahead and start taking your measurements for the new clothes? I'm fairly sure that you've grown again." Kel laughed and stood up and Lalasa made short work of gathering the measurements. "I'll have your outfit ready before the wedding, don't worry." Kel smiled, "Lalasa, I never worry when you make dresses."


	10. Six Months Later

**Part Ten**

**Six Months Later**

**Credit for this part also goes to my big sis**

Kel dismounted Peachblossom clapping him on the shoulder. She grinned and held their days catch as Little Kel got off her pony.

Wyldon strode out of the keep, a loyal courtier in tow. Kel watched as the men talked until a stable hand came with a mount for the courtier. She handed Peachblossom to the hostler and went to Wyldon as soon as the courtier was off.

"Who was that?" She asked, giving him a warm hug.

Wyldon shrugged and placed a hand on her ample belly. "Just an invitation to Corus for the Prince's child's naming day. Also a request to stay awhile and modify the training program for pages. How was the baby today?" he said, rubbing her belly.

She smiled good-naturedly, "I think she is getting too big for my stomach. Lots of kicking today. It was good of Roald and Shinko to wait until the roads thawed out."

"Yours is a happy nature. We'll be taking a wagon, for when riding gets too rough, and ," he declared, cutting off Kel's indignant gasp, "for our trunks. We will be in Corus for summertime I presume and we will need our finery. We leave tomorrow my love."

Kel relented seeing his point. It was good that Cavall's seamstress had made many maternity clothes for her; some were even spelled to hide her pregnancy.

She gave Wyldon a kiss and they went their separate ways. Wyldon went to the stables and then to the steward, Kel to pack for the journey. She had just finished piling the clothes into trunks when a knock came at her door.

"Come in," she called.

Tobe rushed in, his tan skin glowing in Cavall's colors. Kel had released him earlier. But it seemed that he had found a young maiden who enjoyed his attention at Cavall and had decided to stay.

"Milady! You're leaving? In your state? The baby's due in less that three months. Two once you get to Corus!" he exclaimed.

Keladry shook her head, "I'll be fine Tobe! I know how to protect myself and I have my knight in shinning armour," she joked as Wyldon entered the room. Tobe nearly jumped when Wyldon clasped his shoulder.

"A word, Tobe?" asked Wyldon. Tobe nodded, and they stepped into the hallway.

Kel stood by the door, out of sight, so she could overhear the conversation.

"Tell me now if you think me unable to protect her," Wyldon said softly.

She couldn't hear Tobe's mumbled reply, but she could guess it was probably a vehement no. Tobe still thought that Wyldon had snatched Kel from him.

She leaned against the wall, shaking her head slightly at the folly of her men.

Wyldon coughed slightly, Kel knew he was becoming irritated. He didn't like explaining himself to most people.

She opened the door and paused suddenly feeling wetness run down her legs. "Wyldon…," she said, her voice slightly panicked, "Wyl…I'm going to have the baby…NOW!" With that she collapsed onto the floor.

Many hours later Kel awoke to the sound of two children cooing on at her side. She opened her eyes to stare down at her beautiful and healthy-looking children. Wyldon turned from the man, who Kel recognized as the Fief's healer, he was talking to and dropped to the edge of the bed.

Before he could speak Kel asked, "How long have I been out? Are the children okay? Am I okay?" The last part coming out in a whisper.

Wyldon grasped her hand, "Yes, my love you are all okay and you've been out since yesterday afternoon. The healer tells me the babies weren't due for another two months or so. It took a good bit of magic to heal you after the babies were out. But don't worry, you are fine now." Wyldon smiled and smoothed the few hairs on one of the baby's head. "Rest don't worry about the trip. The healer says you and the children will be travel ready by the end of the week." With that Kel closed her eyes and fell back asleep.


	11. Parents, Friends, and Children

**Part Eleven**

**Parents, Friends and Children**

"Welcome to Corus, milady, milord. I'll be showing you to your respective suites," remarked the page, bowing respectfully.

Kel and Wyldon exchanged glances, they had not informed anyone, besides those at Cavall of the twin's birth or of their marriage. Wyldon had wanted to let Kel's parents know at least, but Kel had talked him out of it. She shifted Gerek to her other arm and fixed his hair, smiling at him. Wyldon held Miralis, his finger in her grasp.

Kel sighed; they would have a lot of explaining to do. She had thought that they'd be in Corus before the twins were born, saving one explanation, at least for a while.

"Excuse me, Lady Keladry; will you be having a wet nurse with you?" inquired the page, once they reached her suite. "My Lord Wyldon, your suite is right here, across the hall. My lady, your parents wish to see you as soon as possible."

"No, no wet nurse," she replied, drawing a small shocked glance from the page; most ladies with babies had a wet nurse, but Kel found the practice irriting, she was fully capable of nursing her own children.

She dismissed the page with a thank you and entered her suite with Wyldon. It was rather spacious, having a sitting room, two bedrooms and a showering area. She put Gerek down on the bed next to Miralis and rubbed her temples. Wyldon caught her up in a hug, kissing her softly. "Don't worry so. Why don't we go present ourselves to your parents? They haven't seen you in over a year."

She nodded, resting her head on his chest. "We should change our clothing," she murmured, observing their wrinkled and baby-slobbered outfits.

Keladry took a deep breath and knocked on the door of her parent's house in Corus. She jiggled the antsy Miralis as the door opened, revealing Amira, the head servant. "Lady Kel! It so good to see you again. Come in, come in; bring your man friend with you," she announced, leading Kel and Wyldon to a brown and gold decorated sitting room. Ilene and Piers of Mindelan sat conversing over cups of tea. Amira showed them in and then left them alone. Ilene was the first to notice them.

"Keladry! It's so good to see you! Your father and I have missed you," exclaimed Ilene, who moved to give Kel a hug, stopping when she saw the bundle in her arms, "And who is this adorable child?"

Wyldon stepped forward, clearing his throat. "That would be Miralis, but her naming day isn't for another month or so. This is Gerek; they're twins," he said.

"Wyldon, it's nice to see you as well. Are they your children? They don't look more than a month or two old..." Piers asked as he came to see the babies.

Kel and Wyl looked at each other and then Kel said calmly, "Uhm, actually Da, they're ours." She slid her free hand behind Wyldon's waist, his around her.

Kel's parents looked stricken for a moment, then Piers chuckled and then laughed, "That's a good joke there, isn't it Ilene?"

Ilene looked them over for a while, watching closely as Kel and Wyldon exchanged looks; each one holding a child and the other as if they were the most precious items in the entire realm. She met Kel's eyes and then nodded.

"Piers, I do believe they are serious. May I hold him?" Ilene asked Wyldon. He nodded and handed over Ilene's grandson. Piers stopped laughing, looking bewildered and venomous.

"I don't believe it. I can't. I won't. Keladry," his eyes left Kel as he rounded on Wyldon, "You! You rotten, womanizing piece of filth! Did you witch her and rape her? I'm going to bring you up before the magistrate!" growled Piers, his face flushed.

"Da!" Kel cried, aghast at the smear on her husbands honor, "He did no such thing! By the Gods!" Her hands trembled, Wyldon took Mira from her and then Gerek from Ilene and frowned.

"Piers!" exclaimed Ilene at the same time.

"We should go now; we just got in an hour ago and it's been a long trip," said Wyldon heading for the door, "We'll see you tomorrow at Tieron's reception."

Only Roald's and Shinko's family and closest friends had been invited to the naming celebration.

Kel nodded at her parents and headed out the door with Wyldon.

"Nicely done Piers," huffed Ilene; resisting the urge to run after Keladry and comfort her. She figured that Wyldon could do so better then she could.

"What? Was I supposed to think that our Kel did so willingly? He's twenty years older than her!"

"You know very well that girls as young as twelve marry men much older than that and not for love. And they love each other very much, if you couldn't tell."

Piers scowled and then relented under Ilene's icy stare. "Oh, fine...I'll go make amends with them. It'll take some getting used to though."

Back in their suite Kel sat by a window feeding Gerek while Wyldon rocked Miralis to sleep. Kel ignored the tears that were running down her cheeks; she hadn't expected her father's reaction to be so...harsh. It hurt. A warmth on her shoulder made her look back.

"What's this? Tears?" Wyldon murmured, wiping them away, "You knew they might be shocked. It's a lot to take in."

"I know...but I didn't think he'd be so un-accepting of us. I thought--" she stopped at the sound of knocking on the door. "Enter," she called.

Piers walked in and strode over to the window. "Keladry, Wyldon I must apologise for my rash reaction. It was a tad overwhelming. I hadn't thought of my little Keladry as a grown woman ready to start a family. And I know that Wyldon would never abuse a woman. But I must admit, I thought you were married..."

"Mirelle and I were never really married, not my most standards. It was an alliance between two rivals. She left last summer," Wyldon said gruffly.

Kel adjusted the blanket over her chest and Gerek before saying, "Da, I knew what I was getting into. We agreed on this, and we chose each other. I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner...but I was worried."

"I understand...have you told anyone--" He was interrupted by Mira's wailing, "I see you're going to be busy. Goddess bless you both." He gave Kel a kiss on her head, clasped Wyldon's left hand and exited the room.

"I present to you, Prince Tieron, son of Princess Shinkokami and Prince Roald, heir to the throne of Tortall," announced the priest, holding Tieron up for everyone to see.

Kel, Wyldon, Neal, Merric, Cleon, Faleron, a number of Shinko and Roald's other friends and their Majesties and their closest advisors stood up and clapped as Tier's beaming parents accepted him from the priest. Kel made her way over to Shinko, bowing Yamani-style, careful to not displace Gerek from the sling-wrap.

"Keladry! Welcome back!" cried Shinko, giving Kel a gentle hug. Gerek shifted in the sling and Shinko moved back. "Taking care of more small creatures?"

Kel smiled at the joke and shook her head. "This is Gerek," she said softly, removing the baby from his sling. "He's my son."

Shinko stared at her for a moment and then smiled. "That's wonderful! The father...?" she asked, only to be interrupted as Wyldon came over with Miralis. He bowed respectfully to Shinkokami and then again as Roald came over with Tieron.

"Your highnesses," greeted Wyldon. Mira took the lull in conversation to as an invitation to start bawling. Wyldon rocked her and murmured softly to her for a while as Kel conversed with Roald and Shinko. Kel finally excused herself, whispered in Wyldon's ear and then they switched children. Kel left the room, stopping once to bow to the King and Queen.

Wyldon stood up and made his way over to Shinko and Roald saying, "Keladry gives you her apologies; Mira is quite fussy."

Shinko smiled at him and nodded at the sleeping Tieron and Gerek. "I understand my lord. Is Miralis your child?"

"Yes," he replied simply, "As is Gerek."

Shinko looked confused for a moment. "Forgive me, but I could have sworn Keladry told me the Gerek was her son."

"Oh yes, he is and Mira is her daughter."

"My lord, you just told me that Miralis was your daughter. I do not see how... Oh! Oh my. You and Keladry, my lord. You are married?"

"Yes, Keladry and I were wed over the winter..."

Meanwhile out in the garden, Keladry sat on a bench swing with Mira, listening to the chirping birds. Flowers had blossomed and hunny bees glided over the flowers, intent on their business. She sighed and closed her eyes, it felt so nice to relax. Footsteps disturbed her peaceful silence, they stopped abruptly and Kel opened her eyes at a cough. Neal stood with his back to her, the tips of his ears red. Kel blushed and placed her tunic over her shoulder; covering her exposed chest.

"Neal? You can turn around now."

Neal turned around and sat down next to her on the bench, scowling.

Kel bit her lip, waiting for Neal to come out with whatever was bothering him, even though she figured it had to do with her and Wyldon.

"The Stump? Kel?" Neal asked, sounding somewhat desperate.

Kel's hazel eyes flashed and her voice was serious when she said, "Don't ever call him that again."

Neal looked slightly taken aback, but nodded. "Why didn't you tell me? Did you tell anyone, well besides Shinko and Roald. I read their lips. They're happy for you, as are their majesties, Cleon, Faleron, and the whole lot. Some are confused but," he stopped and cleared his throat, "Well... why?"

She sighed and then said quietly as she handed him Miralis, "Will you hold her for a moment. Be careful...gently now." Kel closed up her white shirt and then slid her blue and black tunic back on. She looked back at Neal, who was staring intently at Mira, an odd look in his eyes.

He glanced up at Kel and smiled lopsidedly. "I never really thought of you as ever being a mother. But you, well it just clicks."

She grinned at his compliment and replied dryly, "Thanks Neal. I suppose you want the story now. We went through a lot together, his injuries before the tournament, mine after the Scanran raid, when his wife left, Little Kel's injuries. There's a lot more to him than meets the eye. It was as if we were meant for each other. You should see how much he loves the twins. Mirelle it seems didn't let him help with their children, ever. We didn't really have time to tell anyone, we were married about two months before the twins were born. They weren't due until next month, but I suppose they got cramped up."

Neal watched Kel closely as she talked, noting her eyes as they traveled through pain, sorrow, joy and love. He nodded when she finished talking. "I see," he said slowly, knowing how he felt bout his wife, Yuki, "It might take some getting used to, but only a fool wouldn't see how much you love him."

"Kel? Keladry?" Wyldon called, he spotted Kel and Neal and walked over to them. "Queenscove," he nodded, "Some of the guests wish to see Mira and you." Kel took Miralis back from Neal and clasped his shoulder.

"Thanks for understanding Meathead."

"Thanks for telling me Kel."

She nodded and went back to the reception, arm in arm with Wyldon.


End file.
